Victorious
by BlurtItAllOut
Summary: Kurt transfers to Dalton to get away from trouble in his old school. He needs a safe haven. Will Dalton be what he needs? The fun, the fluff, the pranks, the drama, the Warblers, the songs, the friendships, the frustration, the growing up, the school work, the New Directions, and everything else that happens during Kurt's junior year.
1. First day

**I love the Klaine-relationship, and wanted to write about what might go on at Dalton if I had been responsible for the scripts. I am not, have nothing to say in Glee, and just play with my head when I think about these wonderful boys.**

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Kurt feels his neck prickle, like a dozen pair of eyes is staring at him. He quickly glances around, but every boy in the hallway seems occupied with their own business, and he can't single out anyone specifically giving him the evil eye.

Of course some of the guys are looking at him – being the new kid in school and being a kid with his arm in a sling, anything else would be odd. But the eyes he dare meeting are neutral, some of them even friendly, giving a quick nod before the eyes' owners disappear down the hall or into a classroom.

Kurt isn't used to this. Kurt isn't used to walking down the corridor without facing a malign look, showing, being tripped or hateful remarks. He had gotten used to all of those things, so used to it he now expect it even though he knows this is supposed to be a safe haven, corridors with zero bullying tolerance policy. Heck, the entire school is supposed to be about tolerance and including, not bullying and harassment. But it is too soon to come to terms with it. What his mind know, is not the same thing as his reflexes are still working with. What his sanity know, is not the same thing as his fast-skipping heart has been used to endure.

Kurt wishes he would see one of those few faces he knows here. Wondering where his friend might be, he automatically reaches his healthy hand down his pocket to grab for the phone, before he manages to stop himself. He isn't able to call or text anyone, and for a short moment Kurt feels really lost and lonely.

"Take a deep breath, Hummel, you are a survivor, this is nothing to be freaked out about", he mumbles to himself while following the flow of uniform dressed boys, hoping they all are headed for lunch as he is. Although he had been to this school once before, that short mission hadn't exactly made him well acquainted with the myriads of corridors, halls, rooms, and buildings. Still, Kurt couldn't help himself from smiling when thinking about that brief visit some weeks ago.

He had been on a mission to spy on his Glee-clubs contestants, and the embarrassment from being easily discovered had been worth the prize – finding Blaine and embarking on a wonderful journey of getting a friend who really got him.

The thought of Blaine makes Kurt reach for his pocket once more to hand out a phone he no longer possesses, and he sighs when he realizes how dependent he is on that phone. And maybe Blaine. Yes, he most certainly feels dependent on Blaine while walking carefully down the corridor, close to the wall as had become his habit to stay out of the way of the hateful jocks. If he kept himself closer to the walls, the distance to the locks was shorter, and the pain would be smaller when the jocks showed him in them. Being closer to the wall was all about being less of a target. But sometimes that strategy just wasn't enough.

Kurt shrugs as his arms start to hurt again, and he pulls it closer to his stomach in the sling, to protect it from bumping into something or someone. He so wishes he could just pick up his phone and call his best friend, whom would tell him everything was going to be all right, and help him make sense of some of the chaos he felt on his first day in his new school. He hadn't been able to talk to Blaine since Monday, now was Wednesday. Things had just happened so quickly, he hadn't even been able to log on to Facebook or Skype to send Blaine a short message.

He misses his friend, and he needs his friend. Since they first met, it had only been a couple of days were they hadn't been in touch somehow or the other. They usually texted several times during the day, and they would Skype in the late evenings before going to bed. Several days they would meet after school for coffee, and they more often than not hang out during the weekends. So it was quite unusual to be out of reach for more than two days. Kurt wondered if Blaine had been worried, but quickly put that thought away. How selfish to think like that, it had just been two days, for Christ sake. Would he worry if he didn't hear from Blaine in two days? Kurt contemplated that though for a while, the strangeness of it, because this was after all the first time they had been out of reach for each other for such a long time laps. But he knew Sectionals was coming up, and this week the Warblers had been occupied with several extra rehearsals, so Blaine and Kurt had no appointments for coffee, shopping or a movie this week. Blaine had texted on Monday, explaining the councils had some wild ideas he of course could not elaborate to their precious spy, but he was afraid he wouldn't have time to meet this week with all the extra work put down to make everything work. It was still some weeks before the competition, but the Warblers – much unlike the New Directions – liked to plan ahead, be prepared and avoid rush and stress.

Kurt fondly rolls his eyes while thinking about his glee club. His old glee club. New Directions was a hell of a circus, and it seemed to work better the more chaos. Although they quarrelled and bitched around with each other, they were also close friends – only a really good friend can take the kind of pressure they put on themselves and each other with the work methods they used. Spontaneity was their force, with emotions on their sleeves. It could be really ugly, but by god could it be really amazing as well. They were the only thing Kurt honestly would miss from his now old school.

Kurt quickly dries off a tear which is threatening to run down his cheek as he approaches the queue in the cafeteria, and tries to concentrate more on what will be served for lunch than all the things that has happened the last 48 hours which he really needs to share with Blaine, Blaine who he can't reach at the moment, and oh yes, lunch, focus on lunch.

Kurt is glad to see that he has got three options for lunch. At McKinley they were being served a main dish, a "you eat what you get"-meal, with some smaller choices to the side, like chocolate, fruit and snacks. But here at Dalton it seems like a custom to have three different dishes each day, along with snacks, a variety of coffees and other drinks, and Kurt thought it might be a spacious salad bar at the end of the register. He smiles happily. He is starving, breakfast had been hours ago.

His father and he had gotten up early to get to Dalton in time for his meeting with the principal and some administration guy. They had worked out his curriculum, finding out what classes were obligatory and giving him some choices for the compulsory classes. They had talked about fees and regulations, rules and practical matters, and the principal had clearly stated the zero bullying tolerance policy twice during their conversation to make sure both Kurt and his father knew he was safe here, at Dalton. Kurt had let it slip out that he already knew at least one student, Blaine Anderson, and how he was convinced he would help him settle down. The principal had nodded in agreement, and they had continued to talk about uniforms and filling out order forms, and hopefully Kurt would get his new school clothes during the day, but no later than the next day. In the meantime he would of course be allowed to wear his ordinary clothes, but the principal had made a point of the importance of blending in and not wearing something too obviously civilian. That point hadn't been on Kurt's mind at all when he left home in the morning, he had expected he would change into the uniform as soon as possible, so he was wearing one of his signature outfits.

After some more information which Kurt had done his best to digest, the secretary had shown him were his second class was. In the meantime, his father would bring all his stuff to his dorm, before he headed back home to get some work done in the garage. Kurt wasn't able to drive with his arm in a casket anyway, so his father would take his car back home, and they would figure out how to solve that problem later on.

He grabs a plate of lasagne, makes himself a glass of ice tea, and heads for the salad bar to ensemble a small side salad to the deliciously smelling food. He is about to adjust how the plates are seated on the tray to make it easier to balance in one hand, when he is approached by the one person he thinks can help him through the obnoxious first day at a new school-hell. Blaine!

"So", Blaine initiates their conversation surprisingly calm considering he doesn't know about Kurt's transfer and has no reason to expect him at his own school again. "I am going to help you with that tray and bring you over to where we are sitting, and then I am going to pinch myself and see how you dissolve into golden dust – or I will be pinching myself while you explain your second mission of spying", Blaine says with a soft smile. He puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders and gives him a warm hug, keeping his body apart from Kurt to make sure he doesn't hurt the arm Kurt holds clenched into his stomach.

Kurt is glad to hand him the tray, and follows him to a table in the back corner of the cafeteria. Kurt is surprised his usually enthusiastically friend hasn't bombarded him with questions about his presence or his casket, but really appreciates how Blaine obviously is holding back for him.

Kurt recognizes Wes and David from his spy-encounter at Dalton, and greets them friendly, after Blaine has exclaimed "see who I found again!" enthusiastically. The three of them had been sitting by a table for four, so Blaine puts Kurt's tray on the free space. Without a word, he turns to Kurt, and carefully removes his satchel and hangs it over a chair, which he pulls out to help Kurt get seated.

"You know, I'm not quite the cripple yet", Kurt says teasingly to address what he thinks is an elephant Blaine just danced around.

"I know", Blaine answers with a steady, but soft voice, and what is it Kurt can see in his eyes? Worry? Concern? "I'm just really, really glad to see you here", Blaine continues, and leans his forehead to Kurt's shoulder for a short time.

Kurt is confused. Does Blaine know something anyway? Who has told him? Kurt stares into Blaine's eyes, looking for answers, but Blaine just smiles at him, and his eyes has shifted to a more calm expression. "Eat your food before it gets cold", he says and pushes Kurt's tray closer to him. "Or do you need any help?"

Kurt shakes his head, huffs, but laughs softly. Even though it is his right arm that is broken, he still manages the basics with his left arm, as long as the tasks only need one hand.

"So Kurt", David start, and Kurt braces himself for what he expects to be a non-stopping stream of questions. "When do we get to sign your cast?"

"Or doodle, you can't tempt us flaunting such a virgin cast", Wes continues with hungry eyes and a big grin.

Kurt can't help himself but sigh with loud relive. Sure he would miss his friends at McKinley, but he just knows these three guys will make his new life at Dalton good as well, and he can't believe his luck. Now is not the time to dwell with all the "what if's" from his spy mission, but he can't help feeling welcome among these uniform clad guys, who obviously hold back all their questions and curve their enthusiasm just for a little bit, for his sake. Kurt can't believe how he was so lucky within all the misery.

Kurt was starving and appreciates the good food Dalton provide, so he keeps mostly silent while Wes and David tease Blaine for his various efforts of dance moves from last Warbler practice, mocking him and questioning if he will provide his own furniture on stage during Sectionals, or if he expects it to be present by arrival. Blaine just laughs and ensures them he will go back to their regular routines when competition draws closer, but yesterday he had so much dance and jump in his feet that needed to let out. Kurt laughs at that statement as well, and can't help thinking about Britanny. She would also be likely to say something like that, or perhaps more airy.

The first bell rings, and the cafeteria becomes a wall of noise. Boys getting up to find their next class, scraping their chairs, chattering, removing their scrapes and handing in the various plates and trays by the exit.

"I really need to attend this next class", Blaine says with honest disappointment in his face. "But I really, really want to talk with you as well", he continues. He reaches over to hold Kurt's left hand, safe from casket and slings. "You are here for a reason, and what kind of friend would I be to let you down now. Can you wait for me and meet after that class? It's my last today, so afterwards I have a couple of hours before Warbler's practice."

Kurt isn't sure if Blaine knows about his transfer or if he thinks Kurt is just visiting, but the second bell rings and he knows Blaine ought to be running off, so he responds quickly and shortly. "Of course I'll wait for you. Meet you here, in an hour? I don't have my phone, so I need specific location", he hurries, afraid Blaine will finish their plans over text, even though he knows Blaine seldom uses his phone during classes, and is a hard working student who pays attention. Because that is how Blaine is, and that is how Blaine works.

"Great, this table in an hour", Blaine responds, squeezes Kurt's left shoulder and runs off to catch up with Wes and David.

Kurt was supposed to have PE as his next class, but obviously with the current situation, that won't be possible, so for now he is off. He remembers from the meeting with the principal that Wednesdays were shorter days when it came to classes, to give the boys more time to do homework and prepare for tests. Thursdays and Fridays were the major test days, and Mondays were the usual day to hand in assignments they worked on during weekends. So, today is a short day for Kurt, with him being taken off of PE and missing his first lesson because of the meeting with the principal.

His second class had been home ec, and he is wondering whether to continue or change to a new class. He has been allowed a couple of days to test the classes and find out what to settle down with. His impression of home ec from today is that it was far too simple for him – they hadn't talked about anything he didn't already know by heart after several years of taking care of his father. So will he settle for a class where he is bound to get an easy A, or will he change to something more challenging and fruitful, something he'll actually learn from? He contemplates this while going back to the principal's secretary, and decides to have a talk with the home ec teacher to see what the plans for the rest of the school year is before he finally decides what to do. His third and fourth hour had been math, and that was not something he could get out off, although he almost wished for it. The classes had been hard, painfully obviously showing Kurt how much further they have come at Dalton than at McKinley. He will have to work hard to make good grades, and he feels like he is ages behind.

Kurt decides to go for a walk in the building; hopefully he'll get to know it a bit better. He takes his time to absorb the surroundings; it's easier to get a proper impression of the building when it's void of students. The school is old and massive, and although it is built for class and money it still has a soft touch of home to it as well. It's not as sterile and generic as McKinley – Dalton has personality and style, and it seems like a place to enjoy, not only exist and get through like his old school.

Kurt heads into the cafeteria again and makes himself a coffee before going back to the table where Blaine, Wes and David left him almost an hour ago. He's alone now, and appreciates the silence. He's exhausted. It's been some hectic days, a lot of emotions and decisions, and a lot of new impressions today. His arm is throbbing with pain, and he regrets leaving the pain killers in his toilet bag, as it is in his dorm.

He skims the pages of an abandoned newspaper to get his mind on to something else but pain, not really noticing what he reads, just enjoying the monotone nothingness, although a bit strained as he's not used to go by solely with his left hand.

The bell rings, and he remembers he never asked what kind of class Blaine was going to, or if he would be far away. Kurt hasn't got a very good grasp of the size of the school yet. It looks big and impressive from the outside, and there are several buildings, and he assumes it will take him months to get to know his way around. He knows he's in the main building now, but he doesn't know if any classes are taught in other buildings. At least so far today, Kurt has only been in the main building, although that's a big enough building to get acquainted with and lost in.

Kurt starts puzzling with the Sudoku on the last page of the newspaper, without a pencil, because he can't really be bothered to find it in his satchel and manoeuvre it with his left hand. So he settles for solving it in his mind, challenging himself to remember every number and every location.

Kurt is about to decide where to put a fem and a seven, when a gentle hand lands softly on his shoulders, and he looks up to find Blaine with red cheeks and wet hair.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, but it took time to settle a winner of the football match, and I really wanted to take a proper shower and remove the dirt and sweat before sitting down with you".

"PE?" Kurt asks, which Blaine answers with a nod. Kurt wonders if it would be more fun to watch his PE-classes than just abandon them, even though he's let out of class until his arm heals. After all, now he knows someone in that class. Someone dear, his good friend Blaine, who most certainly needs some explanations, so Kurt braces himself to go through the last days events once again. "I guess you wonder why I'm here", he states more than asks, as Blaine slides down in the chair next to his.

"I have a suspicion you have transferred", Blaine replies with a steady look into Kurt eyes, and Kurt doesn't know if he's surprised or not. "The principal's assistant sought me out during second class with a message from the principal to keep an eye on a new transfer student who had started today and expressed knowledge about me. Part of me feared it was you, hell, part of me hoped it was you. I knew something drastic must have happened for you to transfer here, but I kept thinking about how nice it would be to have you here with me, in safety. Of course a part of me also assumed it could be someone else, but I immediately thought about you. I kept looking for you in the corridors and classes, but then there was lunch…"

"…and then it was me", Kurt finishes Blaine's sentence, and tries to smile to Blaine. But he is so tired, and he's beginning to realize how serious things have been, but also that he chickened out and ran away and is stuck at a strange school with only one person he knows. Kurt feels defeated, scared, tired and sad, all at once.

"Do you want to come to my room to talk? Are you boarding?" Blaine asks, while gently rubbing his thumb over Kurt's neck. His hand never disappeared after he came, and Kurt revels in the warm feeling of comfort, almost feeling less tense from the tiny massage Blaine has offered.

"Yeah, I'm boarding. I still need to unpack my stuff, but we can go to your room if you want to".

"Don't you need some help unpacking, with only one seemingly capable hand?"

"I guess you are right, I hadn't really thought about that. I'm not used to this yet", Kurt shrugs. He gets a feeling he will really loath his casket within short time.

"Well, why don't we go to your room, so can I unpack and you can tell me what's going on?" Blaine suggests, and gets up from the chair.

"That seems like a clever plan, my good sir", Kurt smiles and follows his friend. "I haven't actually seen my room yet, so I take no responsibility for its state of being, though".

They walk side by side out of the main building's rear exit, cross what looks like a little park, and enters another massive stone building, although somewhat smaller than the one they just left. Blaine makes sure he's always on Kurt's left side, so he won't accidentally bump into his hurt arm. He opens every door for Kurt, gently leading him through with a hand laid on Kurt's back.

"What's your room number?" he asks.

Kurt locates the paper with important information from his pocket and finds the number. "207".

"Well, hello neighbour", Blaine winks and presents his hand to Kurt. "209".


	2. Settle down

**AN: I don't own Glee, sadly.**

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Kurt opens the door to his new room, pushing the door wide open to see as much as possible for his first impression. The room has a decent size. The far end wall has a bed, and a big window through were Kurt can see a lot of trees. The window still is wide, and Kurt can easily picture himself sitting in the still with a book, watching nothing particular outside, and relax. He has always liked corners and small places like that.

The bed is quite tall, and under it he can see two big boxes on wheels – of course maximum use of small space is key, and he's already thinking about what items can go there. Something he doesn't need as often and doesn't crinkle easily, he concludes, thinking about bed sheets, his woolly blanket for winter, and maybe shoes in the other box.

On the left side of the room there's a closet for his clothes – at least for the amount of clothes he brought. Of course he will be using his uniforms most of the time, but outside the classes and official program they are allowed to dress in civilian. Kurt really enjoys using his own clothes and expressing himself through fashion, so he is sure he will be one of those who slips out of his uniform as often as possible. Blaine has often met him for coffee right after school in his uniform, but that's not something Kurt can imagine doing. He loves his clothes, and they need to be used. He hopes the closet and the dresser next to it will room the clothes he has brought. Next to them is a big book shelf.

On the right side of the room there's a desk, a chair, and a single shelf over the desk. Then there's a door, and a stereo bench between the door and the bed.

Curiosity wins, and Kurt steps in to open the door between the desk and the stereo bench. Behind the door he finds a bathroom. Across his door is another door.

"We are sharing bathroom", Blaine explains. "My room is on the other side of that door".

Kurt nods, and is glad to see there are locks on both bathroom doors, glints of major embarrassing moments flashing through his mind.

"So, were do you want to start?" Blaine asks eagerly. "You are free to decorate the room however you want with more furniture, pictures, posters, whatever. I have actually brought a small refrigerator to my room – let me know if you need to keep anything cool."

Kurt appreciates how Blaine doesn't jump on him immediately to get answers, but gives him time.

"I think I will start with painkillers", he says with a weak voice, lifting one of his suitcases onto the bed, rummaging it to find his toilet map.

"Just a second", Blaine says and disappears through the bathroom doors. Shortly after he returns with a cold bottle of water, handing it to Kurt who has sat down on his bed in the meantime. "Am I gonna be the best neighbor ever, or what?" he says laughing lowly to Kurt. Kurt drinks half the bottle to swallow two of his pills, and then puts the bottle on his night stand.

"What do you need?" Blaine says, while watching his friend. He thinks Kurt looks tired now, and almost small, and with his arm in a sling it seems like he is trying to protect himself and cover up on himself.

"I really could use a hug from a friend", Kurt whispers, swallowing some crude tears. Blaine walks over to Kurt, motion for him to stand up, makes sure he only covers the part of Kurt where his right arm doesn't rest, and embraces him tightly. He puts his arms around Kurt's shoulders, pulling the boy closer to him, letting him rest his head against his shoulder, and feel Kurt embrace his left arm around Blaine's waist. "It's gonna be all right", Blaine whispers while holding his friend closely, letting him cry silently on his blazer. He can feel him shiver slightly under his arms, so he pulls him in even closer. "Sssshh, I'm here for you. You are here now."

Eventually Kurt pulls back, and he doesn't try to hide how he wipes away tears from his cheeks. He sits down on his bed, and Blaine mirrors his movements.

"So I'm a Dalton boy now", Kurt begins. "I just couldn't be at McKinley anymore". He looks at Blaine with big eyes, as if he has done something wrong and is expecting the worst consequences. Blaine wants to hold his hand for comfort, but he's sitting at his right hand side, and doesn't know what else to do but smile softly to Kurt. So he does so. Kurt smiles back at him, a short smile that never reaches his eyes.

"Karofsky", Kurt begins, and it's all Blaine needs to tense. He's gripping the bed so his knuckles whitens, any signs of smiles are gone from his face, and he is concentrating on breathing slowly and not get to agitated for Kurt to continue what he realizes is a really bad story.

"It was after Glee practice and I got ambushed by some jocks I don't even know the names of – but they had slushies they claimed had my name on them. They had been waiting for me outside the choir room, but otherwise I couldn't see anyone in the corridors, so I went to the closest bathroom to get cleaned up. I refused any help from the others. They needed to get home, and I have some practice getting clean after being slushied", Kurt laughs without laughter. "This was the men's room. I've told you how I prefer to use the ladies' room for those errands?" he asks, looking over to Blaine who nods affirmatively. "I thought I was alone, but I wasn't. I had removed my jacket, vest and shirt, and was standing in jeans and t-shirt to clean off my face and hair. Then Karofsky came in, and started yelling about how he hated walking into half naked fags, and how I was sickening, and he was tired of seeing me everywhere pushing my gay in his face. I yelled back at him, I don't even remember what I said, I was just so hurt and angry from the slushies, and he didn't exactly help".

Kurt stops to take a shaken breath, and a tear runs down his cheek. Blaine catches it with his thumb, and gently strokes under Kurt's eyes to stop the next tear from falling. "You're so good to me", Kurt mumbles. "I'm glad I'm here, I just wish I didn't _have_ to be here". Blaine puts his arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him a bit closer, but is careful to not hurt his arm.

"I yelled at Karofsky, called him out on his fright, and then he snapped and slammed me into the doors of the toilet cubicles". Kurt stops again, forcing his breath to be more even.

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to", Blaine whispers.

"Yes, I do. I need to tell you. Maybe the pain and the hurt will lessen if I don't keep it to myself. I'm so tired", Kurt whispers. "The painkillers are making me drowsy", he says and yawns.

"Ssshh, that's OK", Blaine whispers and gently pushes the boy down to his pillows. He gets up and lifts Kurt's feet into the bed, removing his shoes before he tucks him into his covers.

"Blaine, please don't leave me", Kurt whispers and Blaine can almost hear the tears in his voice.

"I'll stay if you want me to."

"I do."

"OK, then I'll sit here with you."

"No, lay down with me; hold me", Kurt begs with a muffled voice. Blaine takes off his blazer before he climbs into bed, over the covers. He's not sure what Kurt wants, and the boy seems half asleep already, but he chooses to lie down next to Kurt, sharing his pillow.

"Hold me…" Kurt mumbles sleepy and positions himself as the little spoon. Blaine sneaks one arm under Kurt's neck, while he embraces Kurt's waist with the other arm. He knows Kurt must be really tired and gone from the pills, 'cause it's out of character for him to go to bed and risk his clothes getting wrinkled. Blaine is worried. Although he has heard similar stories like this before, he always gets so angry and upset when Kurt shares some of the bad things he experiences in school. And now Blaine expects it to be even worse, as the story isn't finished. The fact that Kurt is here, at Dalton, sleeping in his arms, with his arm in a cast, is a big fat warning sign that he has been through something really bad.

Blaine wishes he could protect Kurt from all harm in the world. Kurt is the most amazing person he knows. So strong, adorably stubborn, eager minded, kind hearted, emotional and not afraid to show it when he's dedicated or enthusiastic about something. Kurt is so confident, so intelligent and talented, always concerned with what's fair and not. And beautiful. Kurt is so, so beautiful. Blaine's world is a better place because of Kurt. Blaine desperately wants to protect Kurt from any harm. Because even though Kurt is a lot of things, Blaine also can see the mask Kurt sometimes feels inclined to put on. He knows the boy isn't always as strong and confident as he stages, he suspects he's hiding a lot of emotions Kurt doesn't want to accept or recognize in him. Kurt's independent and stubborn, but Blaine knows that no man is an island, and sometimes one need a friend to help through the more difficult things. Hell, sometimes it's nice to have a friend to share the joyous moments with as well. And Blaine suspects that Kurt isn't so good at neither sharing nor allowing himself to show weakness. Blaine focuses his eyes on the amazing boy he has wrapped in his arms, and feels so sad for him. Because knowing all this about how Kurt is and how Kurt wants to be, it can't be easy for him to transfer to Dalton. He must have been led all the way to the gates of hell to turn away so abruptly.

Almost an hour goes by before Kurt begins to move, stretching his body awake. He's about to stretch his arms, but snaps as the movement is being abruptly stopped. He's not used to having his arm in a casket yet. Blaine laughs carefully, and tightens his grip around Kurt's waist.

"Slept well?"

"Yes, thank you. Those painkillers knock me out somewhat, so I must be careful when I take them. Not the wisest thing to do right before class", he says with a wink.

"Do you want to do some unpacking?" Blaine asks, determined to let Kurt continue his story when he is ready, not forcing it out. He knows all to well how exhausting it is to dwell on bad memories, and he can only imagine how much worse it is when the memories are still so fresh.

"Yeah, I should get started with it."

"How can I help you?"

"Blaine, I can't ask you to do my unpacking, I'll manage fine, thank you", Kurt waves him off.

"I don't want to just sit here and watch you work, and I would be glad to help you."

"No-no, I have it under control – but you can entertain me with some stories about the other boys", Kurt offers.

"OK…" Blaine resigns, and gets more comfortable sitting in Kurt's bed.

Blaine shares some stories from the crazy Dalton life at the dorms, elaboration on some of the more peculiar redecoration solutions previous students have made. He encourages Kurt to make the room as personal as possible, since it's a place he'll probably spend a lot of time. Blaine is glad he's able to make Kurt laugh, while the boy is filling the drawers with his clothes and various accessories.

Kurt moves on to the closet, taking out some of the hangers to wrap his shirts around. Blaine watches him silently for a couple of minutes, studying how Kurt tries to fold his shirts and trousers on the hangers with only one hand.

"Why don't you let me help you with that?" he offers and climbs out of the bed. Kurt seems to be thinking about for a while, before he lets himself respond. "Yeah, I guess maybe that would work better", he says with defeat in his voice. "The clothes in that suitcase should be on hangers, if it's manageable".

The boys talk and laugh. Blaine compliments some of Kurt's clothes he hasn't seen before. Kurt is emptying some of the boxes, stacking books, magazines and DVDs in the bookshelf.

"Have you thought about auditioning for the Warblers?" Blaine suddenly asks Kurt.

"Of course", Kurt answers, "but I don't see any point in doing that right now, just a rough two weeks before Sectionals. I won't be able to participate with a good performance", he shrugs.

Blaine laughs. "So New Directions can make their set list in 48 hours, but you don't think you can master our quite easy choreography and three songs in two weeks?"

Pointing out the paradox makes Kurt laugh, until he lifts his casted arm towards Blaine. "I don't think this will look so good on a stage, though."

Blaine shudders. "Would you have withdrawn from New Directions' performance because of a hurt arm?"

"No", Kurt says without hesitation. "But we, they, are an awkward bunch of people put together of about any kind of personality. We have a guy in a wheel chair, cheerleaders, a goth, a guy who can't dance, a guy who can't sing… We're far from as _uniform_ as you are", Kurt says, lifting Blaine's blazer from his chair to underline his sentiment.

"Although I see your point, I think you will realize that we are a versatile group of performers as well, but our identical clothing and choreography makes us all seem so dapper and well behaved boarding school boys", Blaine says with mock seriousness. He takes his blazer from Kurt. "I know you wear civilian today because the uniforms aren't picked up from the storage yet, and of course your cast is clearly visible when you have short shirt sleeves".

"Yeah, I had to use something I could get over the cast", Kurt explains apologetically.

"So for the concert you can wear a bigger blazer to get it over the cast. I even bet you can manage to amend it with your amazing sewing skills so it will fit perfectly on the rest of your very healthy and fit body", Blaine smirks. Kurt blushes. "Knowing you, I bet you were gonna tailor all your uniforms when you get them anyway, to make sure you look more stylish than any other Dalton kid."

"Oh, I don't know", Kurt boldly replies. "You sure can pull of that blazer. You were born to wear such clothes", he teases.

"Gaga, Kurt? Really?" Blaine laughs out loud. He hands his blazer over to Kurt, prompting him to try it on. Kurt pulls on the left sleeve first, but discovers that makes it difficult to get the blazer on his casted arm

"Here, let me help you with that."

Blaine takes the blazer, holds Kurt's right arm gently, and pulls the blazer on as far as possible. "See? It's almost on; maybe you can do magic and make the sleeve wider. I'd be glad to sacrifice one of these if I'm using a bigger size than you." Kurt looks at the label and affirms he does. He was quite certain about the answer before he studied the label. From what he can see, Blaine seems to have a broader, more compact body, even though he is somewhat shorter than himself.

"OK, so now we have concluded I might be able to wear the uniform blazer, but why was that of such importance today?"

"Oh because my dear sir, Warbler practice commences in ten minutes, and I would propose you audition as soon as possible", Blaine answers with mock seriousness.

"If that is so, sire, I do believe you should lead the way", Kurt claims and makes a grand gesture with his left arm and a bow. Both boys crack in laughter and head off.

Blaine texts Wes while they walk, to give the council's leader a heads up on the upcoming audition.

"Do you know what you'll sing?"

"I don't know what kind of songs you would be interested in or what's on your repertoire but _Teenage Dream_. Do you have any advice?"

"Just be yourself, sing something you feel comfortable with, and let them be mesmerized by your amazing voice. I know they'll love you", Blaine smiles eagerly.

"Amazing voice? Have you even ever heard me do a solo?"

"Not per se, but you have so much musicality in your talking voice; I can't believe anything but an amazing singing voice as well. My ears don't exactly bleed when we sing in the car or to films we watch either".

"Stop it", Kurt mumbles, clearly blushing.

"I thought honesty was important for the two of us", Blaine says with mock hurt in his voice.

"Yeah?" Kurt shrugs his right eye brow. "Then I'm going to tell you, my friend, that you are honestly full of bull shit".

Blaine hits Kurt's left arm, before towing him to a big double door. "Well, now is the moment of truth. Are you ready?"

* * *

The rehearsal went smoothly. Kurt had auditioned with _The Rose_, because it felt safe and comfortable. He hadn't felt ready to challenge or surprise with some of his more characteristic solos, and he hadn't felt brave enough to show too much emotions when he was so new to everything. He had gotten what felt like heartfelt warm feedback, and they had all applauded him in as a new member of the Warblers. The rest of the time had been spent on various numbers to check status and help the council plan the rest of their practices before Sectionals. Afterwards everyone had gone to the cafeteria to have dinner, and now Blaine and Kurt is strolling back to their dorms.

"So I was right, you know", Blaine says teasingly.

"About what?" Kurt frowns.

"About your amazing voice", Blaine sing-songs, and gives him a big smile which makes Kurt blush.

"Stop it!"

"No, you need to understand how talented and wonderful you are, and I have all of the Warblers behind me."

"Stop it, I'm nothing special at all…" Kurt mumbles, making Blaine stop. He puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders.

"I am so sad that those people have made you think so low of yourself. It makes me sad to see you downplay yourself, and I wish you would see some of the awesomeness I see in you. Kurt, you are wonderful with so many qualities – your singing voice is just one of the aspects of your beauty". Blaine gently strokes his hand over Kurt's chin. Kurt swallows loudly, willing himself not to cry. The blush covering a third of his body he knows is beyond repair at the moment.

* * *

"So I think that's about it – the boxes and suitcases are empty, the TV and stereo has been installed, and I have to do some more thinking about the personal touches that lacks."

"I'm surprised we could fit all of your clothes", Blaine teases.

"And I am surprised you are naive enough to think that was all of my clothes", Kurt teases back.

"Oh no, I am sure you made some struggling choices when packing, and I must add I have seen you in several stylish outfits before that are missing from this selection", Blaine says pointing to Kurt's closet.

"You noticed that?" Kurt exclaims surprised.

"Of course."


	3. Hairdresser

**AN: This will probably be the last chapter with any focus on angst or sad things, because I intend to keep this light, funny and fluffy - I need it to counterweight another story I'm working on, to keep my head and heart level. So awkwardness is good, but sadness will be left for other stories.**

**And again I remind you, English is not my first nor second language, so bear with me, and please let me know if I'm making a fool of myself.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

Both boys are sitting in Kurt's bed, relaxing and admiring their joint effort to make the room more of a personal home, not the sterile, boring, impersonal and "seen one, seen them all"-room.

"God, you make me feel so safe," Kurt murmurs and leans his head on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine tilts his head to lean on Kurt's head, and they sit still and silent together for a moment.

"I never got around to finishing the How Kurt Came To Dalton-story," Kurt begins.

"And you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Blaine interrupts.

"Yeah yeah, I know, you've already said so. But it's important for me to tell the entire story at least once, and maybe then I can be done with it…"

Blaine softly squeezes Kurt's knee encouragingly.

"So, Karofsky attacked me," Kurt begins, and Blaine startles a bit at the sudden start to the conversation, but keeps quiet.

"He slammed me into the doors, and I tried to push him away. He was agitated, but I managed to get away under his arms. He came after me, and caught me in the hallway. He yanked me by the shoulder and slammed me into the lockers so hard I lost my breath, and dropped to the floor."

Kurt's voice trembles, he's looking at the floor, and Blaine can feel the moist on his shoulders from Kurt's tears dripping from the head still resting on his shoulder.

"He grabbed me by my collar and lifted me up. I asked why he was so afraid of me, and then…"

Kurt becomes silent, but Blaine lets him take his time, not forcing him and not disturbing him in his sharing.

"His fingers gripped around my throat, I wondered if he was going to choke me…"

Kurt slowly straightens up and moves slightly away from Blaine, and Blaine turns to watch him. His friend is looking somewhere into the distance, and Blaine gets the feeling Kurt isn't quite in the room any longer.

"His fingers are squeezing, and it hurts so much. He presses his body into mine, and grabs my right wrist. I realize he is showing his hard-on into my stomach at the same time as he kisses me, and I just freeze. He kisses me again, before he hisses through his teeth he'll kill me if I tell anyone, and he slams my arm around the corner of the lockers until I sunk down on the floor in pain."

The silence in the room is thundering. Kurt has frozen like he just told he had done a few days earlier, and Blaine's brain is slamming around in his head, trying to grasp everything and wondering what the hell he should do. Carefully he puts a hand on Kurt's shoulder, making the boy flinch.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologizes, and Blaine bites his lip to prevent an indecent laughter erupting at the absurdity of Kurt saying something like that in a situation like this. Feeling brave, he moves to sit behind Kurt, and gently pulls the boy in to rest on his chest between his legs. He wraps his arms around his friend, hoping he's doing the right thing, comforting him without approaching him in any way that might resemble Karofsky.

"I'm here," he whispers, holding tightly around the shaking boy. Kurt curls up and crawls even closer into Blaine's embrace. Tears are running down, soaking Blaine's shirt. The boy shakes and whimpers from sobbing. "I'm here," Blaine whispers again, leaning his forehead on the other boy's head.

Eventually, Kurt manages to tell how Coach Sue Sylvester had found him in pain on the floor, and called for an ambulance. After that everything had gone so fast, and Kurt had been witnessing it in a blur, how his father with immediate effect withdrew Kurt from McKinley High, and how he'd moved heaven and earth to get Kurt into Dalton. Thus Kurt became a mid-semester transfer.

"It makes me so sad to hear about this, and I wish I could have been there for you," Blaine whispers, his voice naked with the emotions he's feeling.

"Don't beat yourself up for this, everything happened so fast and I didn't have much time to anything but hospital visits, packing my stuff and bid farewell to the New Directions. The screen on my cell phone didn't survive the intense meeting with Karofsky, so I couldn't even send a quick text."

"Wait, so you don't have a phone at the moment? I've been meaning to ask you about that."

"No, the screen is so damaged I can't read anything on it. It won't charge anymore either, so it'll be completely useless soon. But I brought it, hoping I'd go shopping soon and hopefully use the same SIM-card in a new phone."

"Wait a minute," Blaine says and untangles himself from the tight embrace around Kurt. He disappears through the bathroom.

Shortly after he reappears, with a big grin on his face and a box in his hand.

"I recently bought myself a new phone, because it is so cool and had these app's I really wanted. This is my old, but it really isn't old, and it's nothing wrong with it, except I dumped it for something younger and sexier," Blaine smirks. "But maybe you can have use of it?"

Kurt all but back flips out of bed. "Oh my god, of course I can use it, but are you sure you don't need it?"

"Stop there right now. I may be a bit of an overzealous texter, but I surely don't need two phones – take it, and I can begin texting you again," Blaine pleads, dropping to his knees. His eyes shine and glint when Kurt starts to laugh at him.

"OK neighbor, as you wish," Kurt says, while opening one of the desk drawers to get the SIM-card out of his old phone. He turns on his new phone, and shortly after various beep's alert Kurt of all the texts and calls he's missed the last days.

"I hear you'll be busy for a while," Blaine laughs. "I guess I'll use the opportunity to use the bathroom before you, and get ready for bed."

* * *

Friends and family have been informed Kurt is once again available via phone, and several have already replied with their relief after the silent absence, and also to make sure he has had a good first day at his new school.

Kurt really wants a shower before going to sleep in clean bed sheets. The few days he lived home with the cast, Carole had in light of being a nurse helped him with showers and difficult clothes. But now he's on his own, after he confidently convinced his dad and Carole he didn't need to live home until the cast was gone. He desperately wanted to get started on his new school life.

His pants aren't of the tightest today, so he actually manages to get out of them by some shimmying and footsie manhandling he'd otherwise not forgive himself for exposing his clothes to. The buttons on his shirt isn't as cooperative as he'd like, but after some effort, the shirt is off as well.

Adjusting the water to the right temperature isn't difficult. Soaking his body, while keeping the cast dry, is also fairly easy, thanks to the plastic protection to pull over the cast he got at the hospital. Open the bottle of shower gel and pour out a decent amount is a bit more messy work, but he survives. Spreading the soap on his body is also a bit of a challenge, and Kurt takes time to laugh silly about all the routines he never thinks about – for instance how shower gel usually is evenly distributed on his body by both hands in the same patterns each and every single shower.

Soaking his hair isn't as easy as Kurt thought it would be. He really tries, but the shower head is set a little low, and Kurt finds himself laughing at how his neighbor may have adjusted the shower head to fit his height. But Kurt would like to have the shower head set taller, so he can step under and use his healthy arm to massage in the water and make his hair wet through and through. Kurt starts to turn the knob that will readjust the shower head's position, but while doing so the shower head falls out of it's grip and slams to the tiled floor with a loud noise. Kurt swears. He tries to click the shower head into its position again, but he isn't as coordinated and strong in his left arm, misses, and the shower head hits the floor again. Kurt knocks his head on the wall three times.

"Uumm, Kurt, is everything OK?" a clearly worried Blaine asks through his door.

"Yeah, I'm just a cripple who won't be able to wash my hair for the next five weeks!" Kurt shouts back, feeling annoyed and frustrated.

"Do you need any help?"

Kurt doesn't answer immediately. Of course he needs help. But he can't imagine taking any help from Blaine in this situation. How will that be? Kurt naked in the shower, while Blaine on his toes working on his head with shampoo and conditioner? Kurt's breathe hitches, while he studies the mental picture of Blaine standing really close behind him, massaging his head, as a trial of shampoo tickles down along his spine. And then maybe Blaine would…

"Snap it, Hummel, do NOT go there," Kurt scolds himself, suddenly urging to turn the water really cold.

"Kurt, did you hear me? Do you need help?"

"Give me five minutes, and see if I can figure it out", Kurt calls back. He has decided his hair is moist enough to be shampooed; at least he hopes it is. Clumsily he gets some shampoo in his left hand, awkwardly starting to lather his hair.

It doesn't take Kurt five minutes to realize he needs help with this. He swears under his breath – he could have gone to bed without washing his hair, but he cannot go to bed with a lathered head.

"Blaine…?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't open the door yet!" Kurt quickly warns him.

"OK, I won't."

"I have a problem…"

"Can it be solved without me opening the door?"

"No…" Kurt hesitates. "I can't wash my hair on my own…" he sighs, so low Blaine almost misses it.

"So I'll help you," Blaine offers.

"Blaine!" Kurt whines. "I'm standing naked in the shower with a head full of shampoo. There's no way I'm letting anyone help me right now."

It's silent for a while, before Blaine answers.

"OK," he says, and Kurt can hear him cough. "What if you get more decent and I'll wash your hair in the sink?"

Kurt shivers. His shampoo isn't only in his hair, but has also started to run down into his eyes. His left hand is full of shampoo, and the shower head fell to the floor again. He feels like a blind cripple.

"How fast will you die of embarrassment if you get in here, and I'm only wrapped in a towel?"

There's silence again.

"Why don't we just pretend we're at the beach?" Blaine offers.

"Blaine", Kurt scolds, "you know you wouldn't ever see me on a beach. Neither the sun, the water nor the sand is a friend of my skin."

"For the sake of your problem, imagination and argument – would you please join me at the beach tonight, so I can help you wash your hair?"

Kurt swallows. Then he grabs his big towel, and wraps it around his body just under the arm pits. It isn't easy with one arm, but it'll do for now.

"OK, I'm borderline beach decent!" Kurt calls back.

Kurt hears the door handle being pulled, and the door opens. It's actually a bit amazing how much more he can hear with his eyes shut. He can hear the sound of two bare feet stepping on the bathroom tiles.

"Hey…" Blaine says. "Don't open your eyes; I'll get rid of that shampoo for you."

Kurt hears water running in the sink, and then something soft wipes over his shut eyes.

"You can open them now."

Kurt keeps them shut. The heat is flushing his face, and probably all over his torso as well. This isn't just awkward, it's highly embarrassing.

"Hey!" Blaine says and nudges at his shoulder. "Open your eyes and greet your neighbor, and appreciate the fact your neighbor also is your good friend."

Kurt can easily hear the big grin in Blaine's voice. Slowly he opens his left eye, immediately meeting Blaine's eyes. He opens the right eye as well.

"This is humiliating…" Kurt whispers.

"It isn't, Kurt. It's OK to need help sometimes, and I might just as well warn you that personal space and boundaries tend to get a new dimension in dorms. But it's also fine to have limits and be clear about where your boundaries are. Let's focus on your hair now, and next time we have a better plan to make this more comfortable for you."

Kurt sighs. "It's not like I have so many options here…"

"Exactly. Now bend over the sink and I'll do you."

Kurt rushes up standing straight, feeling his blush all the way down to his toes, just around where his jaw is dropping as well.

"What?" Blaine wonders.

"Care to rewind and listen to that sentence once more?"

It takes 20 seconds before Blaine shares the same hue colour scheme as Kurt.

"Yeah, if you will lean your _head_ under the tap, and I'll make this _hair_ perfect again."

"Hardly," Kurt huffs, but he smiles with both lips and eyes. He leans over the sink, carefully holding the towel with his uncasted hand.

"Kurt… What are these?" Blaine says, and gently brushes a finger over Kurt's back.

"Huh? Oh that, that's nothing, they'll disappear. I bruise easily."

"Kurt, you are blue, green, purple, black, and yellow, your skin is damaged and I can see swellings. How did this happen?" Blaine carefully tugs on the towel, so he can see more of Kurt's back.

"That would be the body art workings made by one Dave Karofsky," Kurt laughs, but this time there's laughter in neither eyes nor voice. He straightens up again.

"I feel so, so sad for you!" Blaine exclaims, and envelopes Kurt in a tight embrace.

"Oh, well, I'm here now, and hopefully they will heal before I get slammed into lockers again," Kurt mumbles. Blaine doesn't let go of his hug right yet, and Kurt is thorn between the enjoyment and the embarrassment.

Eventually Blaine lets go of his hold around Kurt, and he can get started on his new hair dresser assignment.

"Is your hair now to your satisfaction?" Blaine asks, and tugs Kurt to straighten up and study himself in the mirror.

"Yes, yes it is. Thank you so much for doing this. It wasn't quite as humiliating as I initially thought it would be."

"Don't stress it. Now your hair is clean, and I assume you managed the rest of your body on your own. I have tried to be the perfect gentleman hair dresser, and I promise I didn't ogle you. But for what it's worth – you have nothing to be embarrassed about from what I can see", he says with a wink before leaving Kurt.

* * *

Kurt feels fairly successful after he's managed to put on underwear, pajama pants and a t-shirt. Now he is warm and clean in his new bed, awaiting his first night in his new school. He's tired, so he took some pain killers as well, to even the odds for a good nights sleep. He's also quite relieved to note his skin seems to be almost back to its usual pale and light tones. He must find a better way to have his hair washed for the next weeks until the cast is gone.

It's been an interesting day. New school, new teachers, new lessons, new class mates. He knows he'll have to work hard to get up to date with his fellow students, and be able to deliver at the papers and tests. He feels a bit of a pressure, but hopefully he'll be given some slack the first days.

The highlight of the day may just have been his audition for the Warblers. It was a bit spontaneous, could have been better prepared, and he could have chosen a more characteristic song. But he's still quite satisfied with his performance of the beautiful _The Rose_, and it's a song with lyrics he really can relate to.

_Some say love, it is a river_

_That drowns the tender reed._

_Some say love, it is a razor_

_That leaves your soul to bleed._

_Some say love, it is a hunger,_

_An endless aching need._

_I say love, it is a flower,_

_And you its only seed._

_It's the heart afraid of breaking_

_That never learns to dance._

_It's the dream afraid of waking_

_That never takes the chance._

_It's the one who won't be taken,_

_Who cannot seem to give,_

_And the soul afraid of dyin'_

_That never learns to live._

_When the night has been too lonely_

_And the road has been too long,_

_And you think that love is only_

_For the lucky and the strong,_

_Just remember in the winter_

_Far beneath the bitter snows_

_Lies the seed that with the sun's love_

_In the spring becomes the rose._

He had gotten a massive applause and been welcomed among the singing acapella boys by the board immediately. He felt really welcomed, although it was a lot to learn and a bit of a culture collision from New Directions. But as Blaine had promised, Kurt felt confident he would be in his game in due time before Sectionals.

Blaine had brought him to practice, and because they were a bit early, they had been relaxing in a really comfortable couch while the other members of the singing group eventually entered the room one by one or in small groups. It felt nice. Kurt had felt it gave a sense of control, he could get used to the feeling of the room being filled by boys, rather than stepping into a crowded room. Blaine had introduced Kurt to some of the members, Nick and Jeff, which meant Kurt actually had some seemingly friendly faces in his audience during the audition. Two of the three board members were David and Wes, who he felt quite comfortable with as well, although it was clear that the two of them had a board face and a private face. But still, it had been a comfortable and secure audition – maybe next time he would do something more risky and edgy, because his stage would be a well known arena by then. But for now, he felt satisfied. He had even been able to avoid some of the blunt jokes he tended to gulp up when he was way too nervous.

After the practice, all of the members had shock hands with Kurt and introduced themselves. Of course he didn't remember half of their names, but it still felt like a nice gesture, and even though he didn't remember names, maybe he would recognize faces in the hallways.

Then Blaine had brought Kurt to the commons room in their dorm hallway, along with Nick, Jeff, Wes and David. The two board members had removed their board faces, and gone back to the hilarious, funny guys Kurt was more used to see them as. They had chatted, laughed, made decent coffee, and suddenly David had pulled out a sharpie and declared the virgin days of Kurt's cast as expired.

Kurt studies his cast, and giggles. They had made drawings, written inappropriate spontaneous poetry, signed it and given it a life and a design which would make it impossible to accessorize with or make it suit any outfit.

Kurt can feel the pain killers kicking in, and tries to lie on his back. It isn't as painful anymore, so hopefully he'll be able to sleep all night through. All the new things Kurt has experienced today, and to top it all he had survived the embarrassing task of having his hair washed while half naked by his quite hot neighbor.


	4. Night Talk

**AN: Thank you again for reviews, and those subscribing to alerts for this story - I am truly flattered!**

**As I have warned you, English is not my mother tongue, so I have changed some sentences in the first paragraph of the third chapter, after I discovered I made up phrases that does not exist in English. Such shame...**

**Disclaimer: I own no fun.**

* * *

Blaine is tossing and whirling in bed, mind too busy to allow for any sleep. His arms are currently crossed over his forehead, and he inhales the scent on his hands from Kurt's shampoo. That bad been… interesting. Obviously, it had been worse for Kurt than for him. Yes, admittedly, he had needed some time to compose himself before he entered the bathroom. When Kurt had said he was naked, Blaine had chosen not to trust neither voice nor body, and let himself breath deep a couple of times before responding. Kurt always wears so many clothes, so many layers, so it was quite the treat to discover what an amazing body Kurt has been hiding all the time. He has gotten himself a really good looking friend, from what he could see. Beautiful skin, long, slender, but muscular arms, soft hair, a stunning face, strong shoulders. To be honest, Blaine had actually kind of enjoyed the whole hairdresser extravaganza, except for discovering the bruises.

The thought of the bruises, makes Blaine think about Kurt's story earlier that evening, when he had completed the explanations to why he now was a Dalton boy, and how Karofsky eventually had revealed himself as closeted, and in love with Kurt.

Blaine had been so excited about replacing Kurt's broken phone, he had actually forgotten about how badly Karofsky had treated Kurt to make him come to Dalton.

Blaine jolts up from bed.

Fuck.

Karofsky had _threatened to kill Kurt_.

Fuck!

How stupid can Blaine be? What kind of idiot friend is he, who completely neglects such a cruel truth, only to be enthusiastic about a god damn phone?

Blaine climbs hurriedly out of bed, pulls a marine Dalton-hoodie over his t-shirt, and rushes through the shared bathroom into Kurt's room. He finds Kurt sleeping, curled up on his side. Blaine remembers all the bad bruises, and shrugs by the thought of sleeping on such a beaten back. He kneels down by the bedside, and carefully puts his hands over Kurt's unbroken hand, which is fisting his covers in a tight grip.

"Oh sweetie," Blaine murmurs, "I'm so relieved you are here now. I knew you were going through shit, but I never imagined things could escalate to _death threats_!"

Blaine can feel the agonizing lump in his throat, and his eyes are starting to swim.

"I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you…" Blaine whispers, letting the tears go.

"'m here…" Kurt mumbles, shifting slightly, and grabbing Blaine's hands.

"I'm so glad you came…"

Kurt opens his eyes, moves closer to the edge of his bed, and looks Blaine in his eyes, worry clearly shining.

"Umm, Blaine dear, why are you crying?"

"Oh God, Kurt, I'm such a shitty friend! Your life was _threatened_. Not only is it my fault, but I don't even realize it when you are telling me, and need like 12 hours to grasp the clear message you told. I am so, so, so sorry" Blaine sobs, resting his head on the joined four hands.

Kurt sits up in his bed, and releases his hand from the grasp to cup Blaine's jaw, tilting the boy's head and making him look at Kurt.

"Why on earth would you make the assumption that Karofsky threatening to kill me has anything to do with you?"

"Y-you confronted him…" Blaine whispers, obviously struggling for words. "I made you m-make Karofsky snap and…"

"Now you just stop it right there!" Kurt interrupts with his best snap in voice. "First of all – I am man enough to stand by my actions, no one makes Kurt Hummel do anything," he sassies. "Secondly, who knew Karofsky was such a closet case and would respond like that when his secret soreness was triggered?"

Kurt lifts his hand from Blaine's jaw, and strokes gently through his messy bed head curls.

"Blaine, look at me. Look me in my eyes," he says firmly. Blaine swallows, and tries to focus his tear filled eyes. "This is not your fault. This is not my fault. You did nothing wrong. I am so grateful for how you've been there for me through this, I am so eternally glad I have you. You gave me courage, and now I'm here, secure to focus on the rest of my sophomore year, preparing myself to meet the world. Karofsky was so close to breaking me completely apart – maybe is it luck he snapped first, so I had to come here. Am I petrified by his words? Of course. But I'll probably meet other Karofskys in my life. I'm here now, to heal, to be strong again. And I am so glad you are here with me, I'm so glad I chanced on the spying adventure and got to know Dalton and you guys. I'm so glad I knew this was an option when I needed one, and I'm so glad you will make this transfer easier for me."

Kurt carefully dries away the tears staining Blaine's face.

"Ho-how do you manage to be so calm about all this? He _threatened to kill you_!"

Kurt snorts.

"Oh darling, you should have seen me 48 hours ago," he says and rolls his eyes. "As I said, I'm still afraid. But I feel safe here. No one at McKinley would or could do anything. Although, the New Direction's offered to be my bodyguard, I must add. But I just need some normal school days, graduate, move on…"

Blaine giggles, actually giggles.

"Boy, were you wrong if you came to Dalton expecting normal school days," he says, shoulders shaking from his laughter.

Kurt simply quirks his right eyebrow.

"Have you been holding out on me, Mr. Anderson? Do you intend to make me believe these facilities aren't loaded with well behaving, articulated, dapper gentlemen?" Kurt winks.

"Oh, are you in for some treats the next days," Blaine laughs.

The two boys laughs together, before they become silent, just watching each other.

"You OK?" Kurt asks.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Kurt shrugs. "I am asking you now, anyway."

"I am afraid just by the idea of loosing you. I feel guilty for being responsible of that. But I'm glad you are here."

"Hey, enough of that guilt trip. And you ain't loosing me, I'm right here. So stop worrying, I'm fine, OK?"

"OK."

"Good. Now I think we both need to find our sweet dreams, and get some rest before a new school day."

Blaine envelopes Kurt in a tight hug, still feeling a lump in his throat, but so relieved to be able to embrace the almost unharmed boy.

"Have I mentioned I'm glad you are here?"

* * *

The next morning Kurt wakes up in a rush by his alarm. His head is feeling heavy, but empty, from all the crying yesterday and the late night talk with Blaine. He is glad he told Blaine, it feels good to know someone else knows as well, and he is convinced Blaine will be discreet around others. It's not a dark secret or anything, but Kurt doesn't feel comfortable about letting everybody know either. He wants to get to know people with a clean slate, and he has no intentions of hosting a pity party on his behalf either. Blaine knows, but won't blurt it out, and has already proven he will lend Kurt a literal shoulder to cry on.

Kurt is trying to finish his hair with one hand when a knock on his door interrupts him. On the other side, Blaine is smilingly holding a tray.

"I thought I should bring you breakfast to save you some time," he smiles, and Kurt gratefully grabs the cup of coffee. Blaine really appreciates the pleased sigh that slips out of Kurt's lips after his first sip.

"Are you going to class like that?" Blaine asks smilingly, pointing at Kurt's upper body.

"I seem to have difficulties buttoning my shirt, and hoped you would help me," Kurt replies. He had put a t-shirt under the shirt to prevent more half nude awkwardness. He would have to leave the right sleeve unbuttoned because of the cast, but he planned to wear a marine sweater over the shirt anyway. "Hopefully my uniforms will arrive today."

Blaine quickly buttons the shirt, and Kurt clumsily tucks it in his pants – no way is Blaine going to help him with that.

A last glance in the bathroom mirror, and the boys can go to class.

* * *

Classes are hard, but Kurt also enjoys the challenge, absorbing the knowledge. And people are friendlier. He isn't able to take any notes with the cast, so he's really concentrating to pay attention and remember as much as possible. There hasn't been one single class without anybody offering to copy their notes to him.

Luckily he shares most classes with Blaine, so he has a perfect, private guide throughout the day to find his classrooms in time. Blaine has of course already promised to share notes. He also introduces him to some of his friends, but Kurt realizes he already forgot most of the names. He knows Wes and David's faces, and he remembers the two boys sitting next to each other on the last row as Nick and Jeff. He wonders if they are gay, his really unpractised gaydar had gone off, and he thinks the looks the two boys are sharing reminds of the same feelings he sees in the eyes of Mike and Tina when they are staring at each other during glee practice.

Kurt can feel the blush as he thinks about the first coffee he had shared with Blaine, Wes, and David, when he had asked if they all were gay. He still wonders, though, if there were other boys than Blaine, himself, and presumably Nick and Jeff. He hopes Dalton will be different from McKinley in many aspects – maybe he'll even find someone it will be possible to date?

Kurt lets himself get lost in thoughts, thinking about going to a movie with someone, another boy, on a _date_. He thinks about sharing popcorn, maybe holding hands on the shared arm rest. He thinks about eating at a nice restaurant and discussing their favourite dishes. He thinks about strolling in the park, discussing the last book the other boy had read, or go shopping together. He thinks about carefully holding hands, when the streets are empty and no one can bother them. If he dated a Dalton boy, they could probably hold hands whenever at school. Kurt thinks about hands and gentle touches, caressing and cuddling.

Then Kurt thinks about the night before, how Blaine had comforted him with his soft touches. Come to think about it, Blaine and he actually have quite a physical friendship, with a lot of hugs, cuddles and touching. He likes it. He is usually quite close with his girlfriends, sharing hugs and embraces, but Blaine is the first boy who has not only let him, but been mutually touchy-feely. It's so easy to just brush over his curls, nudge his shoulder, squeeze his arm. It doesn't feel like trespassing or unwanted attention. Kurt really likes it. Sometimes a hug says more and helps better than a million words. He's lucky to have Blaine in his life; he's the best friend he could ever get.

Someone nudges his shoulder laughingly. "Where are you now?" Blaine grins.

"Oh, is class over already?" Kurt asks sheepishly absorbing the now empty classroom.

Blaine continues to laugh while helping Kurt place his satchel over his shoulder.

"I can manage that on my own, you know."

"But I don't want you to risk hurting more or straining your arm," he says softly and Kurt stares into his warm eyes.

"You really are one of a kind, you know?"

"I try," Blaine shrugs, and Kurt feels his stomach do the hula hoops.

* * *

Warblers' practice focused on choreography today. Even though the steps are easier than some of the things Kurt had done with the New Direction, it feels more difficult because the Warblers hold so strong formations and want to move like one. New Directions gave room for more individuality, while the Warblers are about being the right puzzle piece to perfect the picture as a whole.

Now Kurt is sitting by his desk in his room, studying for next day's history test. Luckily history is one of his favourite subjects, so not only had he paid sharp attention at McKinley, but he quite enjoys the studying he is doing, although he will easily admit it is a lot to cover during one night. But he is giving it his best shot to grasp the big lines. He has always been well eloquent and saved many a test by the share ability to formulate coherent sentences, but he suspects that won't do at Dalton, that won't be enough to make him stick out, sore thumb or not, to his advance. But he really gets history, and hopes he has made right in his priorities on what to read and what to skim tonight.

Blaine, ever the gentleman, had of course offered to help, but Kurt doesn't think it's fair to hold Blaine back. He needs to study for the same test, and Kurt assumed he would want to prepare in other ways than Kurt did as he had been learning about these chapters for weeks and Kurt for… Well, only for hours.

Kurt can hear shower noises, and glances at the alarm clock by the night stand. Quarter to twelve. It really is time to get to bed, but he also really needs to put some dates and names together.

There's a soft knock on his door as he awkwardly tries to jot down some important key words with his left hand on a note. He always does that, so he can put the note in his pocket, and read it whenever before the test, to be reminded about the main keys, and challenge himself to remember as much as possible to each key word. He opens his door, but no one's there. Which is quite confusing, because someone knocks again. Kurt turns into his room, asking a semi-loud "hello?" into the void. Then the bathroom door opens, and Blaine steps out in his pyjamas pants, a t-shirt and wet curls.

"How are you doing? Are you going to let the books rest for now?" Blaine asks.

"I should do some more studying…" Kurt is interrupted by his own yawn.

"No, you should head for bed. You won't remember what you read if you are sleeping on top of the books."

"That point is only valid if I am actually sleeping," Kurt says, and again he is betrayed by his own yawn, forcing himself to stretch his body, wiping his eyes.

"Want to make a bet how long it would take you to fall asleep?" Blaine teases while he closes Kurt's books and turns off his desk lamp. Kurt protests slightly, mostly to show he won't be bossed around, because he can feel his heavy eyelids.

"Come here, you are making me being responsible for the both of us," Blaine says and drags his neighbour into the bathroom. "Teeth. Brush. Floss. Do your things, as long as they make you ready for bed."

Blaine sits down on the toilet, watching Kurt in the mirror. He knows how it is to be a mid semester transfer, as he was one himself, so he really understands how Kurt feels and the pressure he's under to catch up. But he also knows it won't help anyone if Kurt exhausts himself now, he needs his energy for several more weeks before Christmas vacation is up.

Blaine studies Kurt's face in the mirror, enthralled by the complex skin regime procedures. Kurt seems lost in his own process, and Blaine can't help but smile. Blaine is amused, enjoying watching Kurt finishing his evening routine.

His mind must have wandered, as he is startled by Kurt's voice.

"Like what you see?" Kurt says teasingly, and Blaine shivers.

"I'm just enthralled by your skin moisturizing regime, all the different crèmes and bottles you use. You are really good at taking care of yourself, and your skin is so soft and nice to touch. I wish I had your patience to do the same."

"Luckily for you, you already have nice skin, and can enjoy what nature gave you, while some of us must be aided by YSL and L'Oreal," Kurt giggles.

"You're flattering me," Blaine smiles.

"I'm stating the truth, as we have agreed to do long time ago. And now, honestly, I am ready for bed."

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I think I'll be able to collapse on my bed on my own," Kurt winks.

"Good plan. Well, sweet dreams," Blaine says getting up to enter his own room.

"Sweet dreams," Kurt says silently, and stops his friend with his healthy arm. "Thank you for being here," he says, hugging Blaine.

"I'll always be here for you," Blaine whispers in his ear, embracing him. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm just here."

* * *

Blaine had woken up thirsty after all the chips he'd been eating while studying for his history test, and gulped down a bottle of water from his mini fridge. Now, a couple of hours later, he has woken up because he has to pee. Half asleep he stumbles into the bathroom, leaving the light off to not wake up any further.

Then he hears it. There are muffled sounds coming from Kurt's room. Blaine hesitates, listening carefully. He knocks on the door to Kurt's room, carefully. No response and he knocks again. Still no response. Blaine opens the door carefully, sneaking a glance at Kurt's bed. The boy is tossing and twirling, whispered noises escaping his throat.

"Kurt?"

The boy kicks under his covers, and Blaine hears him screaming silently as he approaches his bed.

"Kurt?" he tries again, taking Kurt's hand. The boy sits up abruptly, staring wild around in the room, panting heavily. "Kurt, it's me, I'm here," Blaine continues soothingly, and he can see the boy's chest slow down as he's trying to focus his eyes on Blaine. "You were having a nightmare, but everything's ok now," Blaine tells him, his heart aching for the boy.

"It was horrible," Kurt whispers, leaning into Blaine's chest.

"I know, I know. You are safe now," Blaine whispers, stroking Kurt's hair. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm so sleepy," Kurt mumbles, halfway drifted off to sleep again.

"I'll let you sleep," Blaine says, pushing the boy back to his pillow, and getting up to leave the room.

"Blaine, sleep with me," Kurt mumbles, and Blaine almost chokes on Kurt's double entendre. "If that's what you want, I'll stay," Blaine offers. "Good," Kurt replies and skids over to make room in the bed. Blaine slips under the covers, the warmth from the other boy's body easily sending him back to sleep in no time. Both boys sleep sound and calm for the rest of the night.

* * *

"How did the test go?" Blaine asks Kurt as they are headed for Warblers practice.

"I wish I had done better, but considering how long I've been here, taking that class and reading those chapters I am really, really happy about my effort. I had luck, though, who managed to focus my studying on the events the teacher found important to ask me about."

Because of the cast, Kurt had been given the opportunity to answer an oral examination instead.

"That's not luck," Blaine argues, "that's part of what makes a good student, being able to make priorities while studying. And if you worry about your grades, which I'm sure you do because you are quite the overachiever and perfectionist, I am sure our professor will be happy to offer extra assignments to compensate later on. But for now, relax, don't rush anything before you get the grading back, and focus on looking forward to your first weekend at Dalton."

"Yeah, a weekend where I have to kick my brain for an English paper. And who said I would have to wait for my grading? It was oral, he evaluated me right away, and I got a B+"

"Hey, congratulations, that's great!" Blaine exclaims. "Way to start your Dalton career, you better be satisfied with that result."

"Well, as I said, all taken into consideration, I'm happy about it, and I can see the A within reach," Kurt shrugs.

"You're unbelievable," Blaine laughs and stops to give Kurt a warm hug. "Here, a B+ hug. When you get your first A, we'll really celebrate."

"Are you offering your body as a reward?" Kurt grins wickedly, making Blaine blush as they enter the choir room.


	5. Granny's

**Thank you to HarmonyLover who took the time to correct some of my petty grammar in my last chapter – it is really appreciated! English is not my mother tongue, so I stumble sometimes.**

**Thank you to everybody else who has reviewed, alerted or made this their favorite - it is really appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I own no fun.**

* * *

Practice was fun, and Kurt is quickly learning to love and appreciate the Warblers for what they are, and not comparing them to the New Directions.

"Which song are you going to audition with?" Blaine asks. They are sitting in the commons room together with Wes, David, Nick and Jeff.

"Since when did you start assuming I would want to audition?" Kurt asks surprised.

"Since I got confirmed what an amazing voice you have," Blaine sing-songs in reply.

"And you totally see the new kid running off with the last solo for Sectionals, beating all the veterans to the finish line, making them wait even more for the solos they have been working for, for ages?" Kurt laughs.

"Quality over seniority," David intercepts, making both boys look at him. "I'm not representing the Council now, but I can assure you your audition will be welcomed and considered as thorough and honest as if you'd been here since your Junior year," David states matter-of-factly.

"I hadn't even considered auditioning, so I will have to think about it," Kurt says thoughtfully. Of course he loves the idea, he knows he's talented for certain stages, but he doesn't know if he has the pop quality the Warblers tend to play with. His voice needs something more specific. He never got solos back at McKinley, but here they are actually encouraging him to audition and go for it.

"But aren't you going to audition?" Kurt asks Blaine.

"Just because I've been their main lead singer for a while, doesn't mean I have to do all the solos," he shrugs.

"Blaine Anderson, is that you stepping down to let someone else bask in the spotlight?" Jeff exclaims while breathing in.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Nick mumbles, his lips too busy kissing Jeff's neck to participate fully in the conversation.

"I'm just saying that Kurt has an amazing voice, and it would be stupid of us to not take advantage of that kind of unique quality amidst our members," Blaine answers, a bit annoyed.

"Blaine, we aren't questioning Kurt's talent – we all heard his audition for the Warblers, and from what we've seen from New Directions he has a versatility and range we love. What we are questioning, is your sanity, dear Blainerson," Jeff throws back.

Blaine rolls his eyes, and Kurt blushes. He wasn't used to getting that amount of positive attention.

"Look, he's blushing, isn't he the cutest ever!" Jeff laughs, and Kurt leans over to grab Blaine's unbuttoned blazer and burry himself in it. Blaine wraps his arms protectively around him.

"Stop teasing, you're supposed to be welcoming to our new students," he says pulling Kurt even closer. Kurt eases his uncasted arm around Blaine's waist, and mumbles loud enough for the others to hear. "They really are being mean, I thought this school had a zero-tolerance bullying policy," he sighs dramatically.

"I know, honey, I'm sorry I have misled you. You can be sure this will have consequences. I'll take it to the principal, or maybe even the president."

"'Honey'?" Wes asks the three other boys silently. They exchange meaningful glances, before watching the embracing boys again, who are now giggling at something the other four didn't catch.

"I remember when we were at that stage," Nick says softly, nuzzling into Jeff.

"Yeah, but you guys knew what you where trying to achieve, flirting madly and staring openly. Those two are usually stealing glances and restraining themselves," Wes whispers while watching the two boys now sitting apart on the couch, discussing something eagerly, the oblivious centre of the others attention.

"Maybe we should force them to break some friendly boundaries?" David suggests. "Make them see how good they are together, and make them get their business figured out?"

"You know what? I have the perfect idea," Wes exclaims loud enough for Kurt and Blaine to direct their attention towards the other four.

"What are you talking about?" Blaine asks suspiciously, while watching David and Wes fist bumping and laughing in a coiled bundle of limps on the couch. Blaine has too much history with Wes' "perfect ideas".

"David has a beautiful mind," Wes sighs.

"And Wes has pretty ideas," David sighs, and they hug madly on the couch.

"Are you sure they are not gay?" Kurt asks with a glint in his eye.

Soon after Nick and Jeff excuses themselves. Apparently they need to study together for a test, but from the looks and touches they shared on the couch, the wolf whistles they get while leaving seems appropriate.

David has to get ready for his date with the current girl friend, and Wes decided David can't do that by himself, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone in the room.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Blaine asks.

"Sure."

"My room or yours?"

"I don't think I've seen your room yet, so maybe we could combine it with the grand tour?"

"Of course," Blaine says leaping to his feet. "But I must warn you, your DVD collection is much more appraisable than mine," he says, pulling Kurt up from the coach.

He leads him to his room, letting Kurt enter first to take in the surroundings. The room is quite similar to that of Kurt, except for the refrigerator, and because Blaine has lived here longer he has managed to get the individual touch clearly visible on walls and shelves, with posters, pictures, gadgets and other personal items. He watches with amusement how Kurt drinks everything in.

"I like it, it's really you," Kurt exclaims eagerly, turning from wall to wall, studying closely the pictures on his board.

"Thanks," Blaine answers and pats Kurt on the back, which makes his friend wince.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" Blaine says sad, while apologizing and almost bending backwards to make things right again.

"Don't worry, you just found the spot were I still have bruises," Kurt shrugs off.

"Does it take long before they heal properly?"

"I wouldn't really know; I can't remember not having bruises or scars some place on my body."

Blaine stars at him with disbelief. "That's just… It's… Unfair!" he yells, getting agitated and angry, wondering how such things can happen for so long time without anyone putting an end to it.

"Blaine, forget about it, let's watch a movie."

It takes the boys almost half an hour to decide which one to see, but finally they can get settled in Blaine's bed, enjoying the opening scenes of _Fame_ – the original movie, of course.

"Want to make a deal?" Kurt asks.

"Maybe?"

"From now on, we take turn on who decides which movie to watch, so maybe we have enough time to actually see it."

"Deal," Blaine smiles, and Kurt smiles right back at him.

* * *

"What the hell? Get. Off. Of. Me!"

Kurt is fighting against a heavy, bouncy and far too energetic body which has woken him up way earlier than he planned for a Saturday.

"Come on, rise and shine, you have so many plans today!" answers the hyper and restless body.

"Blaine, I have no other plans for this weekend but my English paper. It won't go away if I sleep until the sun has actually risen."

"That's what you think," he answers with a sly grin.

"Oh my God, did someone pour coffee in your IV?" Kurt mutters. Blaine is sprawled like an octopus on top of Kurt's covers, and has managed to trap him so he has no possibility to heave the dead weight out of his bed.

"Kurt, I know you love surprises." Blaine is still grinning wildly.

"Blaine, you know I hate surprises," Kurt mutters between clenched teeth.

"My surprises are loveable."

"They are regrettable."

"You are detestable."

"Does the zero-tolerance bullying policy run by office hours?"

"It has done so much overtime, so it got the weekend off, and I'm its substitute!" Blaine laughs madly, although he climbs off of Kurt, so he can rest on his side instead of the bruised back, and find a safer position for his arm in the cast.

"But seriously, Kurt, what's the fun for me having my best friend boarding, if you're going to have a more committed relationship with your books than with me?" Blaine puts on his best pleading puppy eyes, tilting his head and pouting.

"Oh my God, Blaine, sometimes I wonder if you're 8 or 18. Fine, I'll babysit you today," Kurt huffs, but breaks out in a big smile. The smile is shortly after replaced by hectic laughter, as Blaine starts tickling him.

"No fair! I said no fair, I have only one arm!" Kurt heaves for his breath as he manages to pull away the covers, and while Blaine is busy tickling along Kurt's sides, Kurt manages to lock his legs around Blaine's waist, and within nothing he has flipped them over so Blaine is laying on his back and Kurt is straddling his waist. Blaine's eyes are still filled with laughter, but gone bigger by the surprise.

"Don't underestimate the force and flexibility of a cheerleader. And _never_ underestimate a Hummel!" he winks.

"I promise, I promise," Blaine giggles with one hand surrendered up in the air, while the other hand dries off some tears of laughter.

"Hey guys, are you ready for breakf… Oh sorry guys, but next time you better hang a tie on the doorknob so nobody disturbs you." Wes and David winks and grins to the two boys in the bed, before they disappear out of the door again.

"Well, don't look at me, I haven't gotten my school uniform yet," Kurt says, and wonders to himself when he got bold enough to talk like that to Blaine. Blaine blushes.

"I-I thought I'd give you the off-campus sightseeing today. Do you want to grab breakfast in town, or do you want to head down to the cafeteria - and I can bet my signed Katy Perry-poster Wes and David have told at least all of the Warblers what they think they saw?"

"Let them have their fun, and let me keep my pale complexion for some more hours. Now scoot into your room and get ready, if we are going off-campus I see no reason at all for you to wear uniform today," Kurt says as he gracefully climbs off Blaine and lands on both feet on the floor.

Kurt dives into his wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that is actually possible to put on with only one hand, and will require as little help from Blaine as possible. He settles for some slightly wider than usual gray pants hanging low on his hips, a lighter gray t-shirt with a nice collar, a white soft sweater with a deep v-neck and slightly trumpet shaped sleeves to ease over the cast, and over that a black vest in shiny fabrics. A black scarf with details in silver tops the outfit.

"Are you ready, or do you need help with anything?" Blaine asks as he emerges from the bathroom.

"Wow, I think this is the first time I've seen you in something else than uniform or pajamas," Kurt says appreciating the view. "You look really good," he says and blushes slightly as he studies his friend once more in his dark green quite tight jeans, a pale pink long sleeved t-shirt and a gray blazer.

"And yes, I do need some help, actually. If you could help me looping the belt, and with the shoelaces, I would really appreciate it. I wish it was summer, and I could just wear a kilt and some low shoes without laces. That would make dressing so much easier when the cast is constantly fashionblocking me.

"Kilt? Really?"

"Well, no, I wouldn't wear it on a regular basis; it is after all supposed to be a garment for festivities and special occasions. But it would be much easier to put on than tight jeans."

"But you have a kilt?"

Kurt can't decipher what kind of emotion lies behind Blaine's curiousness, so to prevent any teasing he goes for the ambiguous answer:

"That is for me to know and you to find out," he says and winks. He doesn't miss the quick glance Blaine gives his wardrobe.

"So, belt and shoe laces, then I only need my jacket, and we can leave."

Blaine grabs the riveted belt hanging over the office chair, and hesitantly approaches Kurt. "I guess this would have been easier to do before you put on the pants, but let's pretend you have no personal space whatsoever right now."

Kurt lifts his arms and tucks in his tummy, staring in the ceiling and negotiating with his flashing blush to calm down.

"I'm so glad this isn't embarrassing at all…" he mutters, words heavily glazed with sarcasm.

"Hey, I've been in your broken arm-situation before, I know how it is. Relax, this is no biggie. Do you want the belt tighter, or is that OK?"

"No, that's OK, thank you."

"OK, then I'll hurry with the shoe laces, and we can go."

* * *

Kurt and Blaine enjoyed their breakfast at an intimate café, and then strolled around in the older part of the city, discovering treats in the architecture and sculptures. Of course they also found time for shopping. They had stumbled upon an inviting antiques shop Blaine hadn't seen before, and that's how they ended up carrying an almost six feet tall mirror between them. In hindsight, maybe they should have done their smaller shopping errands before buying bigger furniture. At least Blaine is of that opinion, and has been trying to voice it for some time.

"But Blaine, this mirror has my name on it, I couldn't just leave it. Look at all the prettiness," Kurt says with his head tilted showing off his best puppy eyes. He's caressing the oval mirror, with a light but bright yellow wooden frame. The frame has floral carvings, and it's obviously old, but Kurt had bought it for a ridiculous low price. Or, Blaine had paid, simply stating it was a house warming gift. Kurt had protested, and reminded him he already got his cell phone, but Blaine was unstoppable.

"One mirror for two gay guys simply isn't enough," Kurt states with a wink.

"I love the mirror, I wouldn't mind own it myself, but it's heavy," Blaine sighs. "And I'm concerned. If we break it – will that give us seven years of bad luck each, or will we share and make it three and a half year each?"

"Interesting question," Kurt says and signals for Blaine to move a little to the left so Kurt doesn't have to step into the puddle of dirty water in front of him. "I think this mirror is big enough to provide both seven, 14 and 21 years of bad luck, depending on how many is responsible for it breaking. But this mirror is not going to break," Kurt says sternly.

"How about we get to the car and leave your precious baby there, and come back for the rest of your shopping desires?"

"Excellent, my good sire," Kurt replies in mock accent, and skips a couple of steps until he remembers what they are carrying.

Luckily the car isn't parked far away. They aren't quite sure how they can make the mirror fit for the car ride back to Dalton, but for now they leave it stuck on top of the passenger seat and the back seats.

"So what else did you plan to buy today?"

"I never planned to buy a mirror; it simply reached out for me."

"But knowing you, you have a list of needed supplies."

"But of course!"

The boys explore the city and stores, finding most of the things Kurt has on his shopping list, the things Blaine has on his much shorter shopping list, and they also of course buy things that never were written on any lists, but simply couldn't be left behind.

"Such a shame I can't find exactly the posters I want, it would be nice to get my room done by this weekend. I didn't want to bring those I have back home, it felt too much like moving out if I removed stuff from the walls. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does. You love your family, and you'll come back in weekends, for breaks and other occasions. Of course you want your room to be as nice as when you slept there every night. Boarding is a bit weird, 'cause it's like moving out from home, except we haven't moved out. We have to make two homes, and both should be equally nice."

Kurt stills completely, and Blaine turns around to face him as soon as he notices Kurt's gone.

"What?"

"That's exactly how I feel. I love how you understand me and find the words I don't always find," Kurt inhales.

"Hey, it's not like I haven't been in the same situation, remember, I've gone to public school as well, not everybody are rich, posh, dapper dorm-boys from cradle to grave," Blaine laughs. Kurt chimes in, and the two of them continue their walk down the bricked old road.

"So, are you too anxious to get back to your dorm to find your posters of choice on eBay, or do we have time for lunch first? There's this really nice, calm café down along this road. It's a really old, tiny building, and they have kept the charm in the interior as well. The food is delicious, and if we're lucky we can get a table close to the fire place. The menu isn't expansive, and they don't serve dinner, but the atmosphere there is to die for. I know the owner constantly rummages flee markets and antique shops to find old furniture, curtains, silver ware, china and whatnot's. I just love the place, and would really like to share it with you. It's called Granny's, and…"

Blaine is interrupted by two of Kurt's fingers on his lips, and the boy's eager laughter.

"Blaine, I would love to have lunch at Granny's. Now, breathe."

Kurt is intrigued by the obviously old, charismatic house in front of them. It looks as if it's tilting slightly, and it's jammed between two much bigger, newer houses. Blaine pulls him down a narrow passage, as the entrance is on the backside of the house. Kurt is rendered breathless as they enter a quite spacious open place he'd never have guessed could be there.

"During summer it's so beautiful here, with flowers all over the place. There are tables and chairs outside as well then, and you can choose to sit in the sun or rest in the shadow by that big oak tree. Sometimes they have live music, and some days they fire up the barbeque as an extension to their menu."

"This must be a dream, and I can't wait to get inside!"

Blain opens the white wooden door, and it creaks on its hinges and as it doesn't quite suit the door frame after the house began to angle, the door is of course a bit difficult to open and close. Both boys love it.

They approach the big, old fashioned merchant disk, which covers half the room. Cakes, pastries, sandwiches and other home made food are tempting on display, and on the black wall the warm dishes are scribbled with chalk. Kurt decides on the lasagne, while Blaine orders Granny's stew.

They walk up the windy, creaky stairs, and Kurt loves it. He could never live in a place like this, but he loves the charm and authenticity of this café, and he knows he'll be back. The boys are in luck, and find seating in front of one of the three fire places. It's a deep purple chaiselong that looks like something from one of the French king Louis' reign, except for its obvious wear and tear. Between it and the fire place is a small coffee table with black iron legs, and it's obvious it wasn't made to suit the chaiselong, but it's a charm that works for this café.

The food is nice, and the talk is easy, the only silence is the one necessary to eat.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asks as Blaine gets up.

"I'm going to get my traditional, you just wait here," he says with a wink, and disappears down the stairs.

Shortly after, he returns with a wooden tray.

"I always buy their unbelievably tasty hot chocolate, and when we actually got to sit in front of the fire place it would be a sin to leave without this," he says and hands one of the two mugs to Kurt. "And I bought their home made carrot cake. I'm quite full after the stew, but nobody can make such a juicy and flavoured cake as Granny," Blaine explains almost shyly. "The slice is way too much, so I thought maybe you'd share with me," he adds and hands a spoon to Kurt.

"I don't think there's one thing with this place I haven't fallen in love with," Kurt exclaims after the first taste of the cake. "Do you come here often?"

"No, not really, I don't think I've been here so far this school year."

"That's odd, why wouldn't you visit your favourite place more often?"

"I found this place some time I was walking around alone. I had just transferred, I felt lost and alone, I hadn't quite settled down at school yet, and I had begun questioning going to Dalton, I had begun to see myself as a coward who ran off. So one evening, with too many thoughts on my mind, I decided I needed some fresh air from outside school, and I needed to prove to myself I wasn't afraid of being in a public place after I got beaten up for being gay in a public place. But I was afraid, and I was shaking and sweating while walking down the road we came. It was quite dark outside, as it was late in the evening. Then I saw this house, with such warm and inviting lights in the windows. At first I thought it was a house, you know, were people live. But when I saw the sign and realized it's a café, I had to go in. It was pouring down and I was soaked, so when I found a place in front of the fire place it felt like heaven. I ordered a sandwich, and sat as close to the fire as possible. The owner, who is an old lady, by the way, took some kind of pity in me, and came over with hot chocolate and marshmallows to me, on the house. She said such sad eyes needed some warmth. When I left, she gave me an unexpected hug, and suddenly it didn't feel so frightening to walk up the road back to my car again. So, it's a special place to me, and I don't want to ruin it with bringing just anybody. Usually when I leave school, it's with some of the boys. Can you imagine what kind of circus a bunch of Warblers would make here? I just want to keep this as my place for safety and comfort. I guess it feels more like my other home, than the house were my parents live does…" Blaine almost whispers the last sentence.

Kurt's eyes are moistening. He knew very well the story about how Blaine and a friend had been beaten up after a school dance, and how it had landed Blaine in hospital. Their common background with bullying and threats had been an important platform for their friendship to grow from, a shared understanding, and Kurt can easily relate to how scared Blaine must have been, he had after all spent too much time in the hallways at McKinley being afraid of Karofsky.

"I'm honoured you brought me here," he says and scoots over to clumsily embrace Blaine with one arm and one cast. A few tears are escaping from both boys' eyes. Kurt sits down again, but Blaine pulls him closer so he's sitting in his arm, resting his head on Blaine's chest and Blaine's chin resting on Kurt's head. The boys are silent; they don't need to put words to how well they understand each other right now.


	6. Caffeine

**AN: Thank you for your nice reviews, and thank you to all of those who subscribe to alerts or have made this a favorite – thank you for enjoying my selfish rewriting!**

**And please remember, English is not my mother tongue, but I really appreciate feedback on both language and grammar, not only the content.**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own no fun.**

* * *

The rest of the weekend is spent working on their respective English papers. Kurt had been by himself in his room typing, but just before dinner Blaine had entered, wondering if they maybe could help each other. He was stuck with writer's block, and needed a pair of fresh eyes to criticize the paper, and hopefully give some pointers for further progress. Kurt had willingly read through Blaine's paper, as had Blaine done with his. After carefully noting down pointers for the other to continue with afterwards, Blaine had answered the text from Wes and confirmed they would indeed join them for dinner.

Kurt has been sitting idle by his laptop the rest of the evening; working, deleting, editing, reading, looking for quotes, thinking, typing some more, never feeling completely satisfied with the result. He needs a break, and decides to make some coffee in the commons room.

There, sitting in the couches, are Wes, David, Nick and Jeff chatting animatedly about something and whatnots.

"Double-oh, come join us!" Wes exclaims eagerly. "You have been very anti-social all day."

Kurt is tired, his eyes hurt, his brain is boiling, and his mood isn't at his best. It takes time to finish his paper, as he can only type with one hand. He just wants some really strong coffee to help him put in some more hours on the paper, but hesitantly obeys Wes' request after he's started the coffee maker brew his liquid salvation.

Nick and Jeff are wrapped around each other in a chair, making out. Kurt doesn't know if it's his foul temper for this evening that shines through or something else, but he finds himself being utterly bugged by them.

"You are so sickeningly adorable, Noah would choose you as the human couple to bring for his second Ark," Kurt mumbles a bit sour.

"And hence ensue the extinction of the human beings?" Wes worries.

"No stress," says David. "They'll just have to date Miss Monkey, and initiate the evolution again".

Nick and Jeff finally look up, both with big eyes.

The coffee is done, and Kurt pours the ever so important liquid in two big mugs, before heading back to his room. He leaves one mug on his desk, and heads for the bathroom to offer his neighbor on the other side the other mug. They never use the main doors to their rooms when visiting the other, but quickly fell into the habit of entering through the bathroom.

"Hey Blaine, how's it going? I have coffee."

His neighbor has turned the office chair around, and is sitting with his chest pressed against the back of the chair, chin resting on the top, feet wrapped around the sole foot of the chair, and his hands lazily slumped on the keys on the laptop. He's in his pajama pants and a t-shirt that looks painted on over his shoulders and back, Kurt notices. His eyes lands on the small stripe of bare skin on his lower back were the t-shirt has crawled up from the waistband. Kurt swallows. It feels so… intimate to see it.

Blaine twirls around in the chair to face Kurt.

"Thank you," he says and gratefully accepts the mug. "I'm going to proof read this once more, and then I can e-mail it and go to bed. How about you?"

"I still think I lack some edge in the analysis, so I'll probably put in some more hours' effort before I give up."

"Don't push yourself too hard, what I read before dinner was a good paper," he says and takes a sip of the mug.

"Yeah? Well, good isn't good enough."

"Just don't push yourself too hard."

"Blaine, I've been here less than a week, and I need to catch up. It'll be fine; it's just a bit rough the first weeks, especially with one arm in a cast. You said it yourself earlier, it's difficult to transfer mid-semester."

Blaine puts down the coffee and gets up from the chair.

"Yes, I know exactly how exhausting it can be, that's why I worry about you."

He puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders.

"Promise me you won't push yourself too hard? And remember to use us if you need any help; we Warblers stick up for each other."

"Thank you, Blaine, I really appreciate it. But don't worry, I'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to go back before my coffee gets cold"

"Yeah, of course. Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, Blaine."

* * *

Blaine yawns and stretches, arms raised over his head. He'd been sitting up way too late with the paper. As he always did after rough study nights, he had started the morning with a hot shower to loosen up his stiff and sore muscles after sitting cramped up in front of the computer for so long, and then a cold shower to make sure his brain fully woke up. He'll just do the final adjustments on his tie and blazer, before he'll get Kurt to join him for breakfast. He hasn't heard anything from the boy or noticed him in the bathroom, but maybe he had opted off the shower to sleep longer this morning?

He peeks into Kurt's room, and calls for the boy. No answer. Blaine steps into the room, and then he sees his friend hunched over the desk.

"Kurt, wake up!" Blaine gently shakes the boy, who's wearing the same sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirt as when he had gotten Blaine coffee, so he must have been sleeping over his laptop the entire night. "Kurt, you have to wake up, you have classes in an hour!"

Kurt bolts up. "What?" He's looking confused at Blaine. "What happened?"

"You must have fallen asleep while typing."

Kurt looks at the laptop screen. "Oh my god, I have like two pages of qwerty, an unfinished conclusion, and…" He glances at his cell phone. "…and this must be sent within 15 minutes. I'm dead. I'm dead, Blaine."

Kurt gets up from his chair, pacing back and fro in the room, hand tugging at his hair and the cast held protectively against his stomach.

"I think I'm going to throw up, this isn't happening…"

"Calm down, Kurt, this isn't doing you any good," Blaine says while deleting all the excess letters Kurt's head has been typing during his sleep. "Come here, sit down, and wrap up a conclusion."

"I don't remember what I wrote, I don't know what my conclusion is, I'm going to fail my paper," Kurt burst out hurriedly. Blaine grabs him by the shoulders, and forces him to sit down in his chair.

"Focus, Kurt. You're smart, you know what you where discussing in this paper if you let your brain calm down, and I am confident you have the conclusion in the back of your mind. All you have to do is get it out and down on the screen," he says, and starts massaging the boy's shoulders to make him relax. Kurt closes his eyes, hand resting on the keys, and he starts typing.

"You have got to breathe," Blaine leans in and whispers in his left ear. Kurt's neck turns to goose bumps, but at least it makes him let out the air he didn't know he was holding in.

It's clumsily to type, but two minutes before deadline Kurt finishes a sentence and declares he's done. A quick e-mail is typed, the paper attached, send-button clicked, and his assignment is officially done.

"Congratulations!" Blaine shouts, and twirls Kurt around in his chair. "We have half an hour before classes. I'll run down and grab you some breakfast, while you get dressed. Do you need any help with that?"

"It's my first day in uniform, and I suspect both the buttons in the shirt and the tie can be a bit difficult, so…"

"Don't worry, I'll be back."

True to his words, after fifteen minutes Blaine is back with a yogurt, two apples and coffee for Kurt. He helps him finish getting dressed, and then they jog to classes.

"How long did you sleep tonight?"

"I remember noticing the clock was more than five, so I must have fallen asleep some time after that."

"So you haven't slept more than perhaps two hours tonight? This will be a rough day."

"Yeah, I know. I'll have to put my trust in coffee to stay awake. How about you? Did you get your paper in and some proper sleep?"

"Hmm, oh, yes, fine," Blaine answers absentmindedly. He's pulled out his cell, vigorously texting.

* * *

Blaine was right; the day had been rough for Kurt. Rough, but also bizarre. He had shared first class with Blaine, and tried to salvage his cup of coffee for as long as possible, but it didn't last more than 25 minutes, even with small sips and a lot of inhaling the smells in between the sips. The last half of the lesson he'd spent trying any trick in the book to stay awake – pinching himself, sitting up straight in the chair, holding up his eyelids, learning to write with his left hand, studying the various greetings and drawings on his cast, trying to focus on the teachers monotonous speech, and thinking about designs for new uniforms at Dalton. At a point, the teacher's voice had seemed to fade away, Kurt had been resting his head just for a little while, but bolted upright by the sound of Blaine's really loud and really weird sneeze. Kurt was grateful for the awakening.

While walking down the hallway to find the room for his next class, Wes and David had passed him, both bearing a cup of coffee.

"Here, you look like you need these," they had said and given him both cups. Confused, but grateful, he had clung to the cups during class, and managed to stay awake.

When he came to his third class, three boys he recognized as Warblers had brought him coffee, before sitting down by their desks. There wasn't any time to explain before the teacher came and started the lesson.

The lesson was a double-hour, and in recess Kurt hurried out to the men's room, 'cause he really needed to pee after all that coffee. When he came back, three new cups of smoking hot coffee awaited him on the desk, and one of the Warblers winked to him. "Thank you, I guess," he said a bit confused. He pulled out his cell, snatched a quick picture of the three cups and sent it to Blaine. _Do you know anything about this?_ He didn't get any reply, but he knew Blaine wouldn't text during class, and would get an answer later on.

Finally it's time for lunch, half of the day is successfully gone without Kurt falling asleep, he's actually feeling quite awake and good, skipping into the cafeteria. He slides into what quickly had become his usual seat next to Blaine, and is startled to see at least a dozen cups of coffee on the table in front of him.

"I told you we Warblers look out for each other," Blaine says with a wide grin, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Oh my god, are you trying to poison me or something?" Kurt burst out, giggling.

"You are awake, aren't you?"

"You bet I am!" Kurt answers with big eyes.

"How many cups of coffee have you had," David asks, seeming a bit concerned.

"Including this?" Kurt asks and finishes one of the cups in front of him. "Ten."

"Maybe that's enough for today?"

"Maybe that's enough for this week?" Wes suggests.

"Yeah, maybe this got a bit out of control," Blaine agrees, and hands out the rest of the cups to the various Warblers sitting around them, except for two cups Kurt is possessively clinging to. Kurt is still giggling, trying to dry of his happy laughing tears.

"We have the last three classes together, so I'll be able keep an eye on him," Blaine offers to David, who is seemingly worried about their hyperactive latest recruit.

"I don't know if we want his bouncing energy at Warblers' meeting today, or if he should be tied to his bed to calm down," David says as Kurt almost runs to the salad bar, jumping around and playfully gathering the ingredients he wants for today's salad.

"We'll see how he is when we get there," Blaine answers. The three of them are watching Kurt, who has come back as quick as a hurricane. His feet are dancing under the table, he's humming to a tune they don't recognize, and he eats his lunch while bobbing his head from side to side in a rhythmical pattern.

Lunch is over, and Blaine grabs Kurt's left arm, trying to maneuver him in the direction of their next classroom. Kurt states he has "a capital idea", and tries to jump up the stairs with only one leg. Despite his cheerleading background, his dance skills and general outstanding body control, this is not the best day to approach stairs in interesting ways. Luckily, Blaine is still holding his arm, and thus prevents him from falling and breaking any more bones.

"I'm psyched about having English," Kurt says happily.

"So I see," Blaine smiles amused.

"Aren't you?"

"Not as much as you, apparently."

They find their seats, but when Kurt starts rocking the chair, balancing it on two legs, while moving his upper body to a beat only he can hear, Blaine decides to pull their desks closer together, so he hopefully can maybe prevent him from falling off the chair or something. It's not an easy task. He ends up grabbing the boy's left hand with his own left hand, so he can calm down the boy and taking notes with his right hand. Some time during class their fingers end up entwined as Blaine tries to get a better grip on his untamed neighbor, and it makes Kurt sit completely still for the rest of the hour, but with a slight blush on his cheeks. They don't let go until they have to get up and walk to their next class.

In biology, the teacher has given the students assigned places. Kurt is seated right in front of Blaine, so he scoots his desk as close to Kurt's chair as possible to make him sit still and not jump around with the chair. Luckily Kurt is able to keep quiet, but he has a lot of excess energy in his body. Blaine can see him twitch and rock on the chair, sitting crossed legged and stomping his foot. Blaine leans more over his desk, resting his left elbow in front of him, and as discrete as possible he gently rubs his thumb low on Kurt's shoulder blade. The change is as effective as if he had turned on a light switch. The boy in front of him stills immediately. First, he tenses, but it doesn't take long before he relaxes, lowering his shoulders and leaning back as much as possible. Blaine just hopes he won't fall asleep.

Biology is also a double, so the next hour continues the same way – but now Blaine is seriously worried Kurt might fall asleep. That's why he's poking the boy between his shoulder blades once in a while, between the gentle rubbing, to make sure the boy is awake, and still sitting fairly nice and calm in his chair.

When the teacher dismisses the class, Kurt jumps up from the chair like a rocket. He spins around, almost knocking Blaine's head with his cast.

"You're close!" Kurt says shocked, with huge eyes, but then a big grin takes over.

"Do you want to lie down in your bed, or are you up for Warblers' meeting? Wes and David totally understand if you need to sleep."

"Nah, is cool, I'm dapper Warbler, I attend meetings," Kurt says, pretending to give off a serious expression, but cracking up with giggles and narrow eyes. Blaine thinks it's a bit cute, how the otherwise well-mannered, slightly restrained, protective, polite, articulated and mature eighteen year old man transforms to a happy, playful, loose, rambling boy after a couple of liters of coffee.

Blaine has mass-texted the Warblers again, to alert them that Kurt's coffee emergency is over, so they enter the practice room without more caffeine being offered.

Today it's just a meeting, for information and planning, and no actual singing practice. Blaine finds place in a couch for both of them.

David begins the meeting with his usual motivational speech, as Sectionals are coming up and they need to perfect their set list. It is decided that auditions for the last solo will be held on Wednesday, and those interested should inform the council with their preferred solo-song before midnight next day.

It's easy to notice the coffee is wearing off of Kurt, and how exhaustion has caught up with him. His body is completely still, a huge contradiction to the bouncy Kurt they've seen all day. He doesn't speak either, just sits calmly and absorbs the information given by the council. If Blaine had looked more closely at the boy, he might have noticed how heavy his eyelids are, how his head is resting on the back of the couch, and how his body has sunk down.

"Lastly, the Council wants to give you a heads up about the upcoming Christmas ball. The administration has asked the Warblers to accommodate at least 30 minutes worth of entertaining. That means at least ten songs, so suggestions are appreciated. The Council will welcome solos, duets, group numbers and numbers done by all of the Warblers. But do not let the thought of the Ball cloud our preparations for Sectionals," David warns. Wes bangs the gavel on the Council's table, and the Warblers are dismissed.

"Kurt?" Blaine gently pushes Kurt, who has started to lean down a little in the couch.

"I'm not sleeping, just resting like a lot…" Kurt mumbles.

"The meeting is done; you can go to your room and rest more there."

"Capit'l idea…" Kurt mumbles again, but he gets up from the couch, swaying slightly against the door. Blaine grabs his own satchel and Kurt's as well, as he apparently forgot it, before catching up with his tired neighbor.

"I'll walk you to your room, in case you start sleep walking."

They arrive the dorms safely, and Blaine makes sure Kurt is OK before leaving him to go back for dinner. Kurt is too tired and has no appetite in his coffee-filled stomach to join him. Before crash landing in his bed, he decided to let his iPod play randomly from his playlists, hoping to be inspired for his solo audition. The first verse of the second song isn't even done, before Kurt has disappeared to deep sleep.

* * *

The showering he managed without a hitch, not even a single wet drop of water on the cast. But washing his hair in the sink is still a pain. With only his left arm available, he's making a big mess with the water, not making his hair moist enough, and splashing water all over the place – himself included. He curses under his breath, before giving it another try. He screams in surprise when his head touches the tap handle, moving it to entirely cold water.

"Kurt, are you OK?" he hears Blaine on the other side of the door.

"Yes," Kurt answers angrily, "I'm just being clumsy!"

"Can I come in?"

Kurt takes a look at himself in the mirror and studies the wet surroundings. Luckily he had slipped into sweatpants and a t-shirt after the shower.

"I guess."

His words are hardly out before Blaine has come through the door, anxious to see what's wrong. His worried expression is soon replaced by laughter.

"Staging a wet t-shirt contest, are we?" he smirks.

"Yes, and I am winning," Kurt replies with a grin, standing up straight and showing off his wet mess.

"Would you like some help? With your hair, I mean?" Blaine asks and blushes slightly.

"I hate to be so dependent on help for such basic things, but it seems like I'm not getting the hang of it yet. Would you mind?"

"Of course not, I offered, didn't I? Let's find some towels to clean up this mess, and then we'll work on your hair. Do you have the bottles you need here," he asks while drying up the water on the floor and around the sink. Kurt shows him his bottles, pointing out the shampoo and the conditioner.

Blaine adjusts the temperature of the water, before carefully leaning Kurt towards the sink. Kurt bows to get his head under the water, letting Blaine soak his hair. When Blaine seems satisfied, he gently pushes Kurt's head up to start lathering the shampoo.

"You know, this kind of remind me of the slushies from back on McKinley."

"Oh," Blaine says surprised, "I didn't mean to wake up your bad memories."

"It's OK, it's kind of not a bad memory. We would often help each other clean up after the slushies, washing each others hair in the sink as good as we could. Glee kids stick together as well, not only the Warblers", Kurt laughs lightly. "But I must say," he adds, "your shampooing is giving the memory a new and better dimension, I could really get used to this," he sighs.

"I'm glad," Blaine says, trying to concentrate and not enjoying it too much. "I didn't know my guitar fingers had other skills," he laughs a big strained.

"What, your fingers are also piano fingers," Kurt interrupts. "Multitasking fingers!"

They both laugh heartedly, until Kurt must keep his mouth and eyes closed while Blaine rinses off the shampoo.

There's no time for breakfast this morning either, and the boys breaks into an easy jog to get in class in time. They pause by their lockers to get their books, before they have to go separate ways to different classes. As Kurt is about to leave, Blaine grabs his arm and stops him.

"You know… I'm glad I made you laugh this morning. It's nice to see you in a good mood after all that happened. You're strong, you're a fighter. They can't beat you. I see you standing proud and tall; I hope you see how strong and victorious you are."

Blaine gives his arm a quick squeeze, before running off to class, leaving Kurt dumbstruck. It suddenly dawns him, which song should be his audition number.


	7. Politics

**AN: Thank you for all the nice feedback, and thank you for reading my story.**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own no fun, and Glee is fun.**

* * *

The long night of sleep has done Kurt really good, and he feels bright awake, rested and relaxed. No heavy eyes, no muscle soreness, no boiling brain, even his broken arm seems perfectly fit except for still being in the cast. He can't wait to get rid of the thing, but knows he has to suck it up for some more weeks. He has an appointment at the hospital for new x-rays after four weeks, and then they'll decide if the cast can be removed. So far it's only been a little more than a week. On the other hand, it's already been a little more than a week. There sure have been happening a lot during those few days.

Kurt's mind wanders off; completely unable to concentrate on the teacher's lecture in… Wait, what class was this? Kurt shakes his head, he feels like Puck. He shoots a quick glance at the teacher's writings on the blackboard, and oh, yes, it is political science. Right, maybe he should try to focus, it is complicated stuff.

The problem is, Kurt isn't able to concentrate today. He thinks about yesterday, one of his craziest days in a long time. It feels almost like he'd been drunk the entire day, sans the brutal hangover. He'd felt so out of character, so out of control, so out of himself – but still he had felt safe, because he actually had friends who cared and looked after him. He remembers vividly the hours after lunch, when Blaine had done his best to keep him both grounded and awake as Kurt had been landing from his caffeine high. Kurt blushes as he remembers how they had actually _held hands_ during an entire class. And not only hold hands, but somehow their fingers had been laced together. Kurt isn't sure how that happened; who initiated it, but he knows it's making his butterfly farm take off.

It's no secret for Kurt that he's crushing on Blaine, and crushing _hard_. He fondly remembers that day earlier this semester, when Puck not all too seriously nor friendly had suggested Kurt could finally make himself useful and spy on their competition, while the other guys prepared an actual _guy's number_. Among all the wandering blue blazers Kurt could have stopped, he actually chose Blaine. And from the moment their eyes met, he had known this boy was special. He remembers the tinkling on his skin as Blaine had taken his hand and led them running through a short cut. Of course he didn't know at that time what a touchy-feely guy Blaine was, and it had felt precious and amazing to actually hold hand with such a handsome boy – who he later on found out in fact was gay as well, and that touch of the fingertips and palms had been a true high for Kurt. Then he had witnessed their rendition of _Teenage Dream_, and Kurt remembers every tiny little detail – how Blaine had fixed his jacket lapels, how he'd smiled to him reassuringly before taking lead, and how Kurt had felt he had been _serenaded,_ and what a thrill that was for a boy like Kurt, who wasn't spoiled with positive attention from hot guys. How could he not crush on something like that?

Then Kurt had been told his cover was busted, and instead of the manic yelling and scolding Rachel would have performed if something like that happened to New Directions, he had been met with coffee, kindness, understanding and support. From then on, Blaine had been his rock, the one he turned to when he needed help, and after not very long at all he was also the one he turned to whenever. They had become friends, close friends, best friends. There are still a lot of things they don't know about each other, but the closeness they share is unique and priceless to Kurt. But he still would like to be even closer. Having Blaine as his best friend is precious and a gift from angels, but sometimes it is torture as well. Kurt has to admit he is _crazy_ about Blaine. But he has no clue how Blaine thinks about him.

Sure, they spend a lot of time together – but friends do those things. And yes, they can hold hands, snuggle, hug, be close, even sleep together – but Blaine had shown from the very first moment that he use physical contact as a way to communicate and express himself. He isn't afraid to touch and hold, and it feels so good and is nothing the New Direction-boys will ever do, and of course Kurt hugs his girl friends. But still, it can't be denied that Blaine is more touchy-feely than Mercedes and the other girls. The question reminds, though; is Blaine acting like that with all of his friends? Would he hold hands with David or Wes? Kurt doesn't think so. On the other hand, those three boys would easily end up in intense group hugs floating on the borders to friendly, humorous "fights" tumbling around on the floor. Blaine never does that to Kurt. Kurt wishes he knew the boundaries for categories. Where does friendly end and flirty begin?

Kurt lets out a deep sigh, making the teacher giving him an unimpressed look and asking if something's wrong. Kurt quickly apologizes, sitting straighter up in the chair he unconsciously has sunk down into. He aims his eyes on the blackboard to give the illusion of concentration, while his mind again wanders off. He is so confused, what should he do? He doesn't want to loose the friendship, but it's difficult to ignore having fallen so hard. If only he could know if Blaine felt more than friendship. Had all their time together between his failed spying and his surprising transfer just been friendly? Kurt thinks back to all their coffee dates (or not-dates) at the Lima Bean, he thinks about the theatre performance they had went to one Friday night, he thinks about joining Blaine, Wes and David to the movie a couple of times, he thinks about all their phone calls and texts. He thinks about his aching heart.

Then Kurt thinks about yesterday, and Blaine's soothing thumb _caressing_ his back to hold him on a leash during those two hours he'd sat in front of him. It had made his butterflies insane, it had felt like the skin under Blaine's fingers was on fire, he had felt the goose bumps bursting on his arms, and the cold shivers running down his spine. He knows he had been leaning a bit to get closer, to feel more, and he had thoroughly enjoyed it. Then there had been Warblers' meeting, and he'd been sitting calmly on the couch the entire meeting. So tired and yet caffeine-strung all of his senses had been on alert, and the smell of Blaine's aftershave and the smell of _Blaine_ had been dancing in his nostrils. It had felt like an embrace, making him even more relaxed, almost dosing off in the pleasantry. And then, before he finally fell asleep in his own bed, Blaine had made sure he was OK. Not only had he walked him to his room, but he had brought a bottle of water from his mini fridge and put on Kurt's night stand in case he woke up thirsty after all the coffee. He had asked twice if Kurt was good, or if he needed anything, suggesting both bringing dinner and staying with him. He'd finally given in; realizing Kurt meant it when he'd said he only wanted to sleep. So Blaine had tucked him better in under the covers, _kissed his freaking forehead_, and silently closed the door behind him. Suddenly wide awake from being touched by Blaine's lips, Kurt had found his iPod, shuffling through various play lists to hopefully find his audition piece, but ended of fast asleep anyway.

A sudden rush of activity and noise around Kurt makes his mind jump back to the classroom, and he realizes class is over. He quickly stuffs his untouched notebook back in his satchel, before joining the flow of boys leaving the room.

The next class is one he shares with Blaine, and they are teamed up in pair as the teacher wants them to work on the summarizing questions for the last two chapters. Luckily, Blaine is a serious, eager minded and diligent student – as Kurt usually is as well, so by the unconscious help from his friend he's back on track as the A-student he hadn't been in last class. Of course he enjoys cooperating for a whole hour with his _friend_, but it doesn't prevent him from doing what he's supposed to do.

The rest of the day disappears in a blur. Kurt still isn't up to date with all his various subjects and classes, and sometimes he has no clue what the teacher is talking about because he's so far behind, and he scolds himself mentally for not putting enough effort into his school work in the evenings.

Then it's rehearsal for the Warblers, and the council is drilling them on the two numbers they have decided – the third being chosen after tomorrow's auditions. Blaine is leading them on both _Raise Your Glass_ and _Misery_. Kurt really admirers him as a performer. Not only has he got a voice to kill for, but he has a stage present and charm that tops it. You can go far with that, even if the voice is par average, and you can never get to the top with solely great pipes. Blaine seems so committed, so relaxed, so well in his skin, and whenever he performs it seems like it's what he's born to do. Kurt loves watching him, although he doesn't get the chance too often when he's standing behind him, doing their easy choreography and blending his voice into the harmonies and backup.

Kurt misses the dancing they did in New Directions_,_ it was so much more fun and challenging than here. What has surprised him, though, is how complex the vocal of the Warblers is. It's actually quite amazing to realize how many different and suitable sounds and effects they manage to produce by their voices only. When he closes his eyes and just listens, it seems like instrumental music, and it's thrilling to be a part of such magic. OK, he can admit he misses having a solo in front of his friends now and then, he misses the numbers they did at McKinley where more singers than just Rachel and Finn got to shine. But there's a beauty to the style the Warblers are working within as well.

After dinner Kurt does as he had promised himself earlier that day – he locks himself in his room to get some studying done, trying to catch up as well as doing what they are expected to do this week.

* * *

It's around 10 PM when the bathroom door opens, and Blaine glides into his room.

"You are still doing homework."

It's not a question, it's a statement.

"That I am," Kurt answers anyway.

"You've done enough for today; come watch a movie with me." Blaine isn't showing his characteristically puppy eyes or his usual pout, as he puts on whenever he wants to have his will and needs to convince Kurt. No, now he's put on a tone Kurt can't remember having heard before. He seems as if he's sure Kurt won't protest, as if it's a demand, not a request. Kurt is intrigued.

"You want me to neglect my studies in favour of watching a film I've probably seen before?"

"I want you to survive this semester, and I'm doing to you what I needed and would have gained from when I transferred. You may push yourself, but I won't allow for you to break yourself. Come here," he says and takes Kurt's uninjured hand. The office chair roles away from the desk and swirls around, until Kurt is facing Blaine. Slightly amused, Kurt lets Blaine drag him through their bathroom and into his room. They push, shove and reorganize pillows to make themselves sit comfortable in Blaine's bed, before he hits play on the remote control.

"You already picked a movie?"

"Yeah, I need to laugh; to unwind and cool down my brain before I sleep, get rid of too many thoughts and questions buzzing on my mind, so I can actually calm down enough to fall asleep."

"Is anything bugging you? Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah, it's OK, it's just… You know, school, tests, Sectionals – life." Blaine isn't looking at him, but watching the movie trailers on the DVD intently.

"You sure?"

"Positive." The word is short and punctuated.

Kurt isn't convinced Blaine is actually fine, but he's giving off every signal he won't talk about it now, so Kurt will have to wait and pick this up again some more suitable time.

"So, what film are we watching?"

"_Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me_," Blaine answers, grinning at Kurt.

Kurt is grateful for the darkness in the room as he feels his cheeks heat up.

* * *

"Did you remember to notify the Council about your audition piece?" Blaine suddenly asks, in a rather dull part of the film.

"Yeah, that was taken care of before first class today."

"Good. I'm looking forward hearing you. What are you singing?"

"I'd rather not say…" Kurt starts fickling with his sleeves, watching the TV intently.

"Why not?"

Kurt shushes Blaine, trying to make him understand how immensely important it is to watch this part of the film. But Blaine sits up, turning his body towards Kurt, and repeats his question as he puts his hand on Kurt's knee. It's as if the warmth spreads from the knee and throughout Kurt's entire body, and he knows he can't keep silent. So he turns as well, sitting face to face with his friend.

"Because I'm afraid you'll talk me out of singing it, and I kind of want to sing it, but I'm kind of having second thoughts about it as well, and I want it to be my decision no matter what."

"OK, I think I can understand that. May I ask what's giving you second thoughts?"

"Well, some of the reasons I want to perform it are also the reasons I should choose something else. I texted Wes as soon as the song came to my mind, and I wish I had taken some time to consider it more first. The song.. It's not very typical _me_."

"Is it a song that will be difficult for you to perform? Is it so not-you it will be forced and fake?"

"No-no, that's not the problem – the song was chosen because the lyrics speak to me, and it will be like a mental cure to sing it, I think. It was you who inspired the song choice, by the way."

"It was? But we haven't discussed song selections; I am intrigued."

"I think you'll understand tomorrow. It's something you said to me. I'm just afraid people won't take my audition seriously, because they expect me to do as always – sing a song sung by a woman, or something from a musical. This is far from show tune, it's sung by a male lead, and it emphasizes the lower range of my vocals – which is important to me, I want to show how wide of a range I have, in both ends. It's just something I think the Warblers can do well, and it will put me a bit out of the Kurt-box and show new sides of me as a singer. At least, that's what I hope the Council will think."

"Phuh, that was a lot of thoughts for one song decision," Blaine laughs softly.

"Yeah, I know," Kurt blushes. "I never do anything half heartedly, and certainly not in a whim. Except maybe I was a bit too spontaneous with this one, and it's really chewing me."

Blaine takes his hand, and looks him sternly in his eyes.

"Well, if I were you, I would totally relax about it. The Council and the Warblers take any audition seriously; you don't have to worry about that. I think you also need to remember that this is in fact the Warblers, and not New Directions. You have been a student at Dalton for a week, and you have only been to a couple of practices so far. Even though you've hung out with Wes, David and me, no one in the Warblers really know you yet, and especially not as a singer. So I don't think anyone can have a strict opinion about you, and therefore not limit you with their expectations. Actually, maybe this is your chance to show off more versatility, if you want to. From what you say, it seems like you really, really want to sing this song, and I will be looking forward hearing it."

"Thank you for saying that, Blaine."

Blaine squeezes his hand, before letting go.

"Don't mention it, Silly."

Kurt sighs, and lies down on his back in Blaine's bed.

"Even in music there's so much politics, categories and limits. You should think music could be something universal."

Blaine lies down on his side, propping his elbow on the mattress and resting his head in his hand.

"What do you mean?

"I just hate all talk of "girl-songs" and "boy-songs". Why can't a song just be a song, available for anyone to sing as long as they pitch it?"

"I see what you mean. We have often sung songs originally done by female artists in the Warblers, but I guess it's a difference from doing a big group number to doing a solo."

Kurt hums his agreement.

"It's more vulnerable to sing something alone, it's more naked and you become the song and all of its meanings. Therefore it has to be so political correct. When did we last see a gay love duet, for instance? Or two male artists singing a love song with each other, no matter their sexuality? And why does it have to be pinpointed as a gay duet, anyway? Can't a love song just be a love song, no matter who sings it and who it's sung too? Everything's so gendered and tainted, I wish it wasn't an issue, you know. I wish that if I wanted to sing a love song to a boy, with explicit male gendered lyrics, I wouldn't have to look at the female artists and "become" a girl by singing a woman's song."

Kurt huffs, feeling a bit agitated, and Blaine takes his hand.

"What you mean is you would like to sing a love song to another guy, and pick whatever song you fancy, without having to change the lyrics?"

"Yes, I think that about summarizes it."

"So, basically, we need to change the English language, to make it gender neutral."

"Is that too much to ask?" Kurt says pleadingly, making Blaine laugh.

"The world will be a better place, for us and for everybody else. We are getting there. Just think about how much have happened the last decade. Have patience, my dear Grasshopper," he says more seriously, gently stroking his thumb against Kurt's hand.

Kurt swallows, watching their joined hands, and then looking directly in Blaine's eyes.

"How come you always know what to say to me?"

"I don't. But maybe I... You know… Get you?" Blaine shrugs, looking away, at their hands.

"Yeah, maybe…"

The boys fall silent, intently watching the TV where _Austin Powers_ is drawing near its end.

"Hey Kurt?" Blaine starts as the credits start rolling on the screen.

"Mhm?"

"I think I found a gender neutral duet we should sing."

"Do tell!"

"Did you catch through your caffeine haze the Council speaking about the Christmas ball and the need for song numbers?"

"Barely, and I forgot to ask you: What is the Christmas ball?"

"It's the school dance before Christmas."

"A school dance for an all boys-school?"

"Yes, but no. It's a dance for both Dalton and our sister school; St. Elizabeth's Guardian for Young Women. We can also bring dates from other schools if we want to. It's quite the happening, maybe the main event of the semester. There's always a DJ, but as some kind of show off the administration always want the Warblers to do a performance, so they can brag in front of their colleagues from St. Elizabeth's."

"And you want us to perform a duet together, in front of a catholic school?"

"St. Elizabeth's isn't that religious, and we do have our zero tolerance no bullying-policy with us from Dalton. I think the Christmas ball may be the best place in all of Ohio to perform a duet for two gay guys."

"But why would you want to sing a duet with me at the ball? I'm sure you can have all the solos you want."

"That may be so, but I would like to do a duet with you. I know how well our voices mash together from when we sing in the car, and it would be fun to do a love song with another _boy_. This song is always sung by a woman and a man, but now you can have your taste of revolution," Blaine says and winks.

Kurt chokes on air, looking at Blaine with big eyes.

"You want us to stand up in front of two schools and do a love song?"

"Yes, and I'm not afraid of any reactions. First of all, we have the no tolerance-policy securing us. Secondly, we sing in an all boys-group, so two boys singing together shouldn't be that big of a deal."

"But it's still more intimate with a duet than the entire group, Blaine."

"Will you at least think about it?"

"Which song is it, Blaine?"

"_Baby, it's cold outside._"

"Some would say it's not a love song, but a rape song, Blaine. That's what you want to sing in front of the school administrations?"

"I don't consider it a rape song; I see nothing in the lyrics suggesting such a thing. I don't see anything in the lyrics claiming it must be a woman and a man singing it either."

"Hey, I _am_ educated and know how to put a lyric into the context it was written in, and I never said I see it as a rape song. But maybe the audience will…"

"I don't care about the audience, I just want to have fun and sing a song with you," Blaine interrupts.

"OK, I'll think about it."

"Good. Ready for next movie?"

"Shouldn't we go to bed?"

"We already are in bed, and I want to see one more movie."

Kurt just giggles.

"OK, but if I need another caffeine high tomorrow, it's on your shoulders."

"Fine by me, at least now I know how to take care of you," Blaine shrugs while getting up to pop in a new DVD.

"Are you still deciding what we see tonight?"

"Yup."

"And what are we watching?"

"A Greta Garbo-classic; Mata Hari."

"Oh my God, Blaine, are spies a theme of yours, or what?"

"No," Blaine laughs while crawling back in bed. "That would be a theme of yours," he winks.

Kurt huffs and punches Blaine in the shoulder, but settles down to find a comfortable position.

"Hey Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking. Let's do the duet."


	8. Punked

**I am so sorry for my long absence, but I've been away on vacation without internet access. But, good thing is, I have been able to plan out a lot of chapters on my mind, so hopefully updates will be more frequent from now on.**

**As usual, English is not my native language, so please forgive any bad grammar, and please let me know what could be better.**

**Disclaimer: I own no fun. Glee is fun.**

* * *

It turns out, Kurt doesn't need a caffeine fix the next day. He had fallen asleep quite soon after _Mata Hari_ had begun playing, and Blaine had woken him up when the movie was done so that he could find his own bed. Kurt had slept well all through the night, woken up at a normal time, finished his morning routines – as usual with some aide from Blaine, and by now that has happened so often Kurt isn't even embarrassed anymore. Almost.

Classes have been interesting, but Kurt can't fully concentrate. He's antsy and restless, and the dominant part of his mind is thinking about his solo audition. He knows the lyrics back and fro, he's prepared the musical version on his iPod, he's practiced it as often as possible, and knows very well how he wants to perform it. Still he's nervous. Kurt has never questioned his singing talent, not until today. What if they don't want his kind of voice? What if they don't think it will fit in a _male_ a cappella group? What if… So many worries and Kurt really wants to be accepted. He's used to being rejected as soloist in New Directions, but thanks to his open hearted conversation with Blaine last night, he so badly wants to impress him as well. Why did he have to reveal the song choice was inspired by Blaine? Why did he have to elaborate how much the song meant for him as an audition piece?

Luckily it's Wednesday, which means a shorter day with more time to do homework and prepare papers and tests. With Kurt out of PE as long as the cast is present as well, means he's got a couple of hours for final preparations before his awaited audition. As soon as his last class is dismissed, he runs off to find a secluded place for his last rerun. He ends up in Warblers own practice room, not by intention. But no one is there, the hallways around are empty, and why not take the opportunity to test the resonance and how his voice will sound with the high ceiling and heavy walls. He's never sung alone in the room before, only joined in the harmonies with the rest of the group, or in smaller groups practicing their versions.

Kurt nods to himself, pleased with the rerun, accepting the conformation that he has this song nailed, and if he practice it anymore it will be too stiff and forced. He wants to keep some of the flow and improvisation he learnt with New Directions. Now he needs to get back to his dorm for the finale preparations. Unfortunately he needs to wear his uniform for official Dalton activities, and Warblers are considered of such merit. But he still has some tricks up his sleeve he'll use to get better into character. Off with well tailored, coiffed haired, preppy school boy, in with punked Kurt.

He finds his black leather cuffs, leaving one behind in the drawer, silently cursing his cast for destroying the balance. No one will see the cuff under the shirt sleeve, but he will _know_ it's there, and it'll make him feel he suits the song so much better. Scarves are out of the questions, but he puts on his black braided leather necklace. It's not often he uses it, as he is so much more of a scarf guy. But the necklace will suit the song more, and it is a cherished memento. Hanging in the leather is a charm who once had been his mothers. He wraps his hand around the cold silver to heat it before it rests on his chest, once again thinking about his mother and how much he misses her. Kurt smiles, decides he should use the necklace more often, before tucking it in behind his tie and shirt.

Then Kurt finds his way to the bathroom, pulling out his make up. With the black eyeliner and grey eye shadow he makes slightly smokey eyes. Not too much, he won't risk being accused of "disrespecting the uniform", but still enough to make it noticeable. Finally, Kurt works on his hair. He makes it spikier, roughens it, giving it more edge.

He had declined the offer to hear the other auditions – he didn't want to feel threatened by the other performances. He doesn't know how well the other auditions will be, he has after all only heart Blaine as soloist. If the other boys auditioning are nearly as good as Blaine, the competition will be tough. Kurt doesn't need that now. So he has been told by the Council to wait in front of the practice room, his audition time being 30 minutes after practice started. He didn't know how many else were auditioning and what the agenda was for the half hour before his time slot, but Kurt had opted for not asking, preferring to concentrate on his task at hand, and not purposely seeking out more to worry about. Kurt is determined to no pacing in front of the door, no watching his phone for what time it is, no fiddling with his hair, no playing the song on his iPod over and over again, and certainly no trying to listen to what happens on the other side of the door. Oh no, he sits calmly and relaxed on a bench, letting all the world's confidence fill him up, letting his shoulders fall into normal position, smiling and enjoying his time. Yeah, sure.

Finally the door opens, and Wes calls for him to enter. Kurt gets up from the bench, takes a deep breath, exhales, gets into character, and confidently steps into the room. He hands Wes his iPod to put it in the docking station, the instrumental version of the song ready to be played. David introduces Kurt for the rest of the Warblers; how silly, everybody knows each other. Always so formal. Punk-Kurt snickers, shoving dapper-Kurt completely away for the next five minutes. He nods to Wes, who hits the play-button.

Kurt lets the intro fill him, the significant trademarked sound from the synthesizer and guitar embrace him. Hips swaying slightly, his hand tapping the beat on his thigh, a confident half smile on his lips, watching his audience intently through his eye lashes, eyes slightly rolled upwards, showing off more of the white, making even more contrast to his make up. Kurt feels good. Kurt is going to rock this. He looks at Blaine, who's sitting in a couch with Nick and Jeff. All of the Warblers are looking at him, politely, with interest, curiosity. But Blaine is staring with big, intense eyes at him, and Kurt decides he fucking _loves_ getting such attention from that boy. Kurt stares back, smiling mischievously, as he opens his mouth to sing the first verse.

_The paranoia is in bloom, _

_The PR transmissions will resume, _

_They'll try to push drugs, keep us all dumb down _

_And hope that we will never see the truth around, so come on_

As the first verse rolls off his tongue, he sees some of the faces recognizing the song. His upper body twists and jolts to the beat, dancing without lifting his feet, but swaying in both hips and knees. His voice spits out the words in a low key, showing anger, but not too much, it is after all a song about hope and about winning.

_Another promise, another scene, _

_Another package not to keep us trapped in greed _

_With all the green belts wrapped around our minds _

_And endless red tape to keep the truth confined, so come on_

He leaps confidently into second verse. How could he ever have been nervous about it? Kurt Hummel is rocking _Uprising_! The Warblers seem to approve as well; his fellow members rocking, jumping, bouncing and dancing in their places, big grins on their faces, watching Kurt with glints in their eyes, making him feel like a freaking rock star. Prep school uniformed rock star, but never the less. His left foot is tapping the rhythm, adding a beat to the song.

_They will not force us_

_And they will stop degrading us_

_And they will not control us_

_We will be victorious, so come on_

In the first chorus, he takes it up a notch – stronger voice, more volume, showing off his high range of voice. Determined eyes stare at each and every single member of the Warblers, as if to challenge them to deny him his victory. His eyes linger a little longer on Blaine, and his heart bolts with joy as he sings the word _victorious_, it's easy to see that's the moment Blaine understands how he inspired Kurt's song selection. His head snaps up even higher, he looks at Kurt with intense eyes, before grinning wildly, pointing at Kurt with his index finger as if to tell him "you devil you, I so got it now!"

_Interchanging mind control, _

_Come let the revolution take its toll, _

_If you could flick a switch and open your third eye, _

_You'd see that we should never be afraid to die, so come on_

Third verse, and Kurt starts to move more around. He hasn't over-thought the choreography for the song, but decided to do what felt natural. And this is not a song to perform while standing stiff as a log through and through. He moves around in the room, hips swaying with the seducing and sexy beat of the song, shoulders shimmying, and confidence oozing out of every step and every note he performs.

_Rise up and take the power back, _

_It's time that the fat cats had a heart attack, _

_You know that their time is coming to an end, _

_We have to unify and watch our flag ascend, so come on_

The fourth and last verse, and Kurt can't believe how quickly this song has sprung out from his vocal chords. This is his drug, this is his fix, this is his high. He belts out the last line, feeling empowered, the world is his tonight, and he can't wait to make it a better place to live.

_They will not force us_

_They will stop degrading us_

_They will not control us_

_We will be victorious, so come on_

The chorus rolls out again, and Kurt prepares himself for the grand finale. He stands still during the chorus, legs placed wider to give him some more balance. He sings stronger, clearer, and louder, pushes his lungs to the max, and uses his stomach muscles as effective as he manages to get every sound out right.

_Hey, hey, hey, hey_

_Hey, hey, hey, hey_

_Hey, hey, hey, hey_

During the bridge, he runs around in the room while shouting all the hey's. When he has got only a few of them left, he heads for the couch where the three gay members of the Warblers sit together. With some elegant moves coach Sylvester would have approved of, Kurt leaps into the couch between Nick and Jeff, and he doesn't stop until he's standing on top of the couch. His arm is raised in the air, fist tight so his knuckles whiten. He's stomping one foot on the ridge, standing wide legged to keep his balance, and he gives his all in the last chorus.

_They will not force us_

_They will stop degrading us_

_They will not control us_

_We will be victorious, so come on_

As the last notes of the music fades away, Kurt carefully lowers his hand, panting and gasping for air. He's sweating, and adrenaline is rushing through all of his blood veins after his performance. There's utter silence for thirty seconds – long enough for Kurt to start thinking he's done the biggest mistake of his life. Then the room explodes in applause and eager shouts. Nick and Jeff turn around, grab his leg and yank him down. Kurt is caught off-guard, and robbed for balance he falls into the couch, somehow managing to land in the three boys' laps without hurting anyone, including himself. He's surrounded by boys congratulating him with the audition, compliments raining on him, high fives received East and West, and Kurt is still in his friends' laps, thoroughly enjoying his time.

Finally the sound of an insistent gavel repeatedly hitting the table makes the boys calm down and go back to their places. Nick and Jeff scoots closer, happy to do so, and offering some space for Kurt to sit down in the couch.

On behalf of the council, Wes thanks Kurt for the audition, and dismisses him. Kurt doesn't want to stay to listen to other auditions, he doesn't want to worry about his competition, he just want to go back to his room and enjoy a performance he has no regrets about, so he gets up and politely leaves the room.

* * *

"Kurt, are you here?" Blaine looks around in Kurt's room without seeing the boy. He even opens the clothing's closet, although he cannot fathom why the boy should be there.

"I'm here," Kurt's voice answers, but Blaine still can't see him.

"Were? Your room isn't that big…"

"In the window."

Blaine jumps into Kurt's bed, peaks behind the curtains, and finally sees his friend. He follows the direction Kurt's eyes are looking, and is stunned by the colorful sunset.

"Sit with me, we can watch it together."

Kurt moves slightly, making space for Blaine between his legs.

"You have to sit facing this direction; otherwise you'll only see a dark forest."

Blaine carefully hoists himself into the wide window still, scooting close to Kurt. He leans into the boy's chest, resting his head on his shoulder.

"This is nice," Blaine sights contently. Kurt adjusts the curtains to make sure they thoroughly cover the window, and don't let any light from the room reflect in the glass and ruin their view.

"You owned the stage, Kurt. Your performance – it was just overwhelming and perfect. I understand better now what you meant yesterday, and I'm convinced the council is impressed. You killed your competition, you have to get that solo!"

"Ssshh," Kurt interrupts. "I don't want to think about winning or losing the solo, I just want to enjoy my high, and relax in my landing while watching something beautiful." Kurt slips his arm around Blaine's waist, and Blaine puts his hands on top of his.

"Yeah, it's a beautiful sunset," Blaine chimes.

"Mmhhmm," Kurt agrees while watching his friend through the corner of his eyes.

Eventually all the colors have been replaces by darkness, and there's nothing more to see but a few stars. Blaine breaks the comfortable silence between the boys.

"We need to practice our duet."

"Now?"

"No, but I was afraid you had forgotten it in your ravishing solo audition."

Kurt feels the heat in his cheeks.

"When is the Christmas Ball?"

"Two weeks after Sectionals," Blaine replies.

"Tell me more about it. Does everybody bring dates? What do we wear? Do people dance? Is the staff there? Are there food? What happens?"

Blaine laughs. "So many questions!"

Kurt playfully slaps him on the shoulder, with the arm without the cast; he is after all not a cruel man. "You ought to know by now that I like to be prepared when I do something."

"Am I throwing you to the sharks, Mr. Hummel?"

"Maybe I'll just decline to do the duet anyway. Maybe I have a bad cough coming up…"

"OK, OK, OK, I'll let you into all of the Christmas Ball Sacred Rituals and Secret Traditions. First of all, I believe you will be thrilled to learn that this is an event out of uniform."

Blaine is interrupted by Kurt mockingly fist pumping the air and exclaiming a solid "yessss!" They laugh heartedly together, before Blaine continues.

"It's a formal dress code, so the boys will be wearing nice suits or tux'. There's no seated dinner, but there are tables and chairs to sit down by. The buffet with finger food is recommended to visit early, as it tends to be quite sparse after the Dalton boys have laid their greedy fingers on it, or so I've been told. No manners…"

Blaine takes a pause in his Ball rambling to shake his head disappointed, as if thinking about his class mates and friends stuffing their faces like cave men.

"The Warblers will be responsible for some of the entertainment, there will be some from the girls, and then there's a DJ for the rest of the evening. The two headmasters usually give a short speech to wish us season greetings, and then it's dancing, talking, flirting, exchange of phone numbers, and someone will always get caught smuggling alcohol into the ball room."

"So, considering the phone number bit, does that mean not everyone bring dates?"

"No, I would say just a few does. Why?"

"I was just wondering, I didn't want to be the one kid without a date, making myself look lonely and unwanted…"

"Kurt, you are not unwanted, and I hope you don't feel lonely here."

"It gets better day by day. I just don't want to make myself look like a looser."

Blaine turns a bit to be able to see Kurt in his eyes.

"You know what? This is high school, and we should make the most of it. We should do more pranks, maybe a bit more studying as well; we should embrace all the traditions, and make sure we get to experience all the high school moments. Soon it will be too late. Kurt Warbler, will you do me the honor of escorting me to the Christmas Ball?"

Kurt is so surprised he almost falls out of the window still, but he manages to stay put and get out a reply.

"I'd be delighted, Mr. Anderson, and it's my honor," he says, batting his eye lashes exaggeratedly and making Blaine laugh.

Inwardly, Kurt is in chaos, wondering what just happened. Did Blaine ask him to be his date, or are they going as friends to have fun and get the whole high school-experience?

* * *

"Hey Blaine, we need to talk to you!"

Wes and David catch up on their friend standing in the kitchen to make some coffee.

"What's up, guys?"

"It's about the third solo for Sectionals. The Council just wants to double check you are sure you don't want it?" Wes says.

"Yes, I am sure; I want someone else to get a chance for that solo."

"And will that be your answer even if Kurt doesn't get the solo?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Blaine, seriously, we know you adore his talent and try hard to ship him as soloist, but we don't want you to make any stupid decisions. Will you be equally happy with any of the other who auditioned, or will you want your solo back?" David carefully asks.

"Are you telling me Kurt didn't get the solo? 'Cause in my opinion he gave the best audition earlier, and I honestly can't see who you think was better than him."

"Blaine, please listen, this isn't about Kurt or the others, this is about you. The Council hasn't made any decision, because we need to know what you are thinking," David patiently tells his friend.

"OK, I get it. Yes, I would love to see Kurt get a solo, and that's part of why I stepped aside for this solo. But if you have chosen someone else, I think it will be a strength for us during Sectionals to show the judges we have a width in soloists and talent. If the solo is given to someone younger, it's also a nice opportunity for him to learn, as someone has to take over as lead when I graduate. But if you give the solo to someone older, like Kurt, it will be nice for him to get a chance to finally sing solo during competition before he graduates. Either way, I'm happy to do back up on that number."

"Oh, Blaine, really, are you shipping Kurt?" David deadpans at the mention of Kurt again.

"Council hats off, friend hats on, what's the story between you and Kurt anyway?" Wes interrupts.

Blaine sighs, takes his cup of coffee and sits down in one of the couches. He looks around to see if they are alone before he answers.

"Umm… I think I'm crushing on him? I think maybe I like him more than a friend?"

"If you are honestly asking us, we can honestly tell you we already knew this, and we might add we see you more than just crushing on him," says Wes.

"God, you are so annoying! OK, yes, I admit, I may like him a bit. But I'm sure he only sees me as a friend, and after his rough time at McKinley he doesn't need me complicating things. He needs a good friend, not a crushing fool, so I'll just suck it up and be what he needs," Blaine says a bit sad. "I care too much about him to risk losing our friendship," he adds whispering.

"Rough time?" David raises his eye brows.

"You know bits and pieces, but it's his story to tell…"

"We get it. But remember, Blaine, you too had a rough time at school before you came to Dalton. That doesn't disqualify you as boyfriend material. Are you sure you're not being over protective of Kurt and reading some wild ideas into this situation? Has he said he doesn't want a relationship?"

"David. I am not going to ask my close friend if he might be interested in upping the ante and indulge in a relationship with me, when I have no reason to believe he feels more for me than friendship. And don't you dare patronize it, 'cause there's no such thing as 'just' a friendship. I treasure it so much, and appreciate how close we have come."

It doesn't happen often, but now Blaine isn't able to decipher the look Wes and David are giving each other.

"We are preparing a duet for the Christmas Ball," Blaine suddenly remembers.

The boys look surprised.

"Are you sure about this, Blaine?" they ask simultaneously.

"Yeah, I think it'll be fine. We're hoping you'll accept us doing _Baby It's Cold Outside_. And I suggested we could go together," Blaine adds in afterthought.

"Excellent, it is duly noted," Council-Wes says about the duet.

"Excellent, so you have a date?" friend-David asks.

Blaine stops smiling.

"Umm… I wouldn't think so. I never said that to him."

"How did you ask him?"

So Blaine tells them about how anxious Kurt had seemed about going to the Ball and how he wanted to make a good impression, how they had talked about traditions and embracing life, and then Blaine had suggested they take part in the tradition and escort each other.

"Oh Blaine…" Wes mutters. "You may be charming and witty, but you are no Casanova. You have probably left Kurt with an impression you are going to pretend, just to be a part of the fuzz. If you want it to be a date, you have to tell it straight to his face. That boy is so shy and his self esteem sometimes seems to be in minus, so he won't take anything for granted. Blaine, you're a man of grand gestures – but sometimes you are the king of mixed signals as well. You have to make up your mind, 'cause it's all too obvious to us you haven't. Are you going to woo the guy, or are you going to settle for the friend zone?"


	9. The Talk

**AN: Thank you to everyone who is reviewing and subscribing to this story, I hope you still enjoy it!**

**A big thank you and a batch of cookies goes to HarmonyLover, who gave me a lot of valuable help in this chapter - I am so, so grateful!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Advocates for Youth or Austria.**

* * *

Something is wrong.

There's not a particle of doubt in Kurt about that. Blaine has been smiling oddly the entire day, clutched to his phone, massively texting – even during class, and Blaine is never anything but a perfect student.

Kurt hates not knowing what's up, and that's why he knows something's wrong. Because Blaine has always confided in him. Surely, they haven't known each other for years and years, but they quickly became as close as could be, and Kurt thought they could talk to each other about everything. Of course, Kurt is nothing but persistent, and has tried numerous times during the day to find out what's up. But to no avail. Yet.

This is why Kurt is sitting opposite Blaine during lunch, studying him carefully, finding new ways to voice his concern. Because, what do you really say when you don't have the faintest idea what might be happening? He has no reason to suspect something bad is happening to Blaine, considering the goofy grin, the eager manhandling of his phone, and the distant but eager gleam of his eyes. Kurt has spotted Blaine shaking his head while laughing to himself a couple of times, and he can swear he actually saw the boy talking to himself during a break, when he had hastily passed Kurt in the hallway barely noticing the boy, quickly greeting him with a hurried nod, and then shocking off to wherever. But how do you tell your best friend you are worried, because he hasn't talked to you as much as usual today, because he hasn't smiled to you during classes as he usually does, because he hasn't rolled his eyes with you when someone says something stupid, because he has texted someone who isn't Kurt during the day, because he seems happy without Kurt being the reason? How do you raise your concern when you can't pinpoint something _negative_ or _wrong_¸ and the boy in question actually seems bright and happy?

That's when it hits Kurt. He's being jealous, because Blaine obviously is flirting with a boy. A boy who isn't Kurt. Blaine has met someone who can make him laugh and smile and vibrate from eagerness. Kurt will never be able to make Blaine feel like that. Kurt will never be more than his friend. And hell yes, Blaine is a wonderful friend, and he will never disvalue what they have. But that doesn't stop Kurt from thinking he would like to have more as well. Kurt sighs, deciding his salad is tasteless and disgusting today, and picks up his tray to leave the table. He needs to be alone for this revelation.

"I have to get a book at the library, so I'll just…" Kurt makes up on the spot to explain him leaving.

"Hmm, yes, fine," Blaine answers absentmindedly, eyes glued to the phone in his hand.

Kurt scoffs. This is the first time Blaine hasn't offered to help him with his tray since he came to Dalton. Of course Kurt can carry his own tray, even with the cast. But something clearly has changed between them, and he simply hates it.

* * *

It's their last two classes for the day, and usually it's a double of math. But today their teacher Mrs. Adams is being followed by a stranger with plastic bags in hand. The man looks like he's in his late twenties, Kurt guesses, and is wearing a warm smile as he scans the boys sitting by their desks. Mrs. Adams is in her late fifties, and has been wearing the same clothes all week. It's repulsing, Kurt thinks.

"Class, this is Mr. Lorenzo. He's from _Advocates for Youth_, and is here to give you a lesson in sexual education. I'll be leaving now, but you can find me in the teacher's lounge if you need me," Mrs. Davies says, the last sentence mostly directed to the man.

Mr. Lorenzo walks around to sit on top of the teacher's desk, and waits to talk until Mrs. Davies has left the room.

"So, class, I'm Mr. Lorenzo, but you may call me Danny. As Mrs. Davies said, I am from the organization _Advocates for Youth_. We have recently been able to start a project visiting schools to give the students some proper sexual education. We are mostly aiming for the private schools, as they aren't as restricted by state regulations as the public schools, but we dream big. Many teachers find it to be an embarrassing subject to talk about, that's why we always do these classes without the teachers present. It won't be awkward for you either, as you will never see me again, and hopefully that will make you feel more comfortable and free to ask whatever."

Mr. Lorenzo goes on explaining about the core values he represents – rights, respect, and responsibility. He then tells all boys to close their eyes and lay their heads down on their desks. He explains he will be asking some questions, wanting them to raise their hands in affirmative, but not see each other's answers to make it easier to reveal such personal information to him.

The boys quickly obey, and Mr. Lorenzo first asks if anyone has been or is in a relationship, with a boy or a girl. Kurt is pleasantly surprised to hear the man includes gay relationships in his question – he can't imagine many teachers would have done that. Kurt keeps his hands rested on his desk. He feels his eyes tremble, and he has a deep urge to peek slightly to see what Blaine answers. Blaine is sitting one row in front of and two seats to the left of Kurt.

"Remember, no peeking," Mr. Lorenzo reminds them, and Kurt shuts his eyes even harder. The man then continues to explain that for the next question, sex will be defined as having an orgasm together with someone else, whether it is as oral sex, penetrative sex, or by other means. Then he asks who has had sex before.

Kurt keeps his hands down for almost all of the questions – who has kissed (he raises his hand halfway, wishing it didn't count, but feeling kissed), who has had an STD, who has been on a date, who has made anyone pregnant, who knows someone who's had an abortion, who has watched porn, who wants to get married and who wants to have kids. Kurt raises his hand tentatively at the question about marriage, because honestly he doesn't know if it ever will be an option, but he really, really hopes so. As for kids, he doesn't know, it feels like such an adult topic and isn't something he has dwelled much on, and as he has no strong opinion saying he does want children, he keeps his hands down. Finally Mr. Lorenzo asks who is gay or bisexual, and Kurt determinedly raises his hand.

"Thank you for answering me and respecting each other's privacy," the sex educator then says before turning to the black board. He scribbles down a phone number.

"This is my work number, and you are welcome to use it whenever you have any questions or need someone to talk with about these topics. Outside office hours the phone is turned off, so no drunken prank calls possible," he laughs, "but I will hand out pamphlets to you with some emergency phone numbers who are available 24/7, and there's more information on our website. However, if you have any questions today, I encourage you to text them to me, if you think it's embarrassing to ask them out loud in class. I doubt it, but if any of you should not have a phone, you can slip me a note in the break with your question. I will answer as many as possible during the second hour."

Kurt is glad he's sitting in the back of the classroom, feeling the heat boiling under his skin. He doesn't think he will ever be able to feel comfortable talking about sex, neither with a stranger nor someone close. At least it had been a really, really embarrassing talk when his father had initiated it. They hadn't talked abut _technicalities_; Burt had left those questions to be answered by some pamphlets Kurt had pretended to have read later on. Burt had mostly talked about how Kurt _mattered_, how he shouldn't give himself to just anybody, about love and commitment, sex as a way to _connect_ with someone special, about sex being a gift not to waste, and that it would change him. Kurt doesn't quite understand what will change, but it isn't important yet, as he knows for sure he won't find anyone wanting to have sex with him for many, many years. And he already knows he wants it to be special – not just with a random gay New Yorker he meets at a bar during college. Kurt knows that for him to have sex, he will either have to be really, really drunk to not care – or it will have to be with someone so close he can put all his trust in the person. Kurt doesn't feel comfortable or relaxed by the thought of getting undressed, much less being intimate, so it's a long way, he knows.

As Mr. Lorenzo, or Danny, begins his talk about STDs and the important need for proper protection, Kurt's mind wanders to this morning. Usually Blaine is helping him get dressed and undressed. But this morning he had been so absentminded. While helping Kurt with his shirt buttons, they had been interrupted by several buzzes from the phone revealing new texts arriving, and Blaine's eyes had lit up, and he had actually managed to do the buttoning wrong afterwards. Just another example of how something is really odd.

Then it hits Kurt how weird this is – he's more annoyed by Blaine not paying full attention to dressing him, than he is embarrassed by Blaine helping him get dressed. Yes, it had started out really awkward and embarrassing, but day by day it has become a routine for the guys, and Kurt realizes he has stopped blushing from his navel and up. Sure they have slept close to each other, and Kurt has woken up in Blaine's arms. But it's a different kind of intimacy, when someone peels off your clothes, no matter the reason.

He has always made sure to put a white t-shirt on, so Blaine hasn't actually seen his skin every single day. The first time Blaine helped him wash his hair is the time he had been the most undressed in front of him. But still, it has been kind of intimate as Blaine has buttoned and unbuttoned his shirts, helped him with the cuffs, folding the sleeve over the cast as it was impossible to button. He's helped him loop the belt into clean pants, standing really close with his arms embracing Kurt's waist. It's slightly humiliating to be so dependent on someone, being so helpless – but he doesn't feel threatened by it. Maybe he will, in the future, be able to get so close to a person, and then having sex with him won't be such a big deal. Kurt doesn't think he'll ever find someone he connects so well with as Blaine, but maybe second best will be good enough? Maybe, some time in the future, when he's not so dedicated to Blaine.

Mr. Lorenzo opens one of his bags, and starts handing out bananas to the boys in the classroom, quickly followed by condoms.

"It is important to know how to put on a condom, both to prevent pregnancy and STDs. If you put it on wrong, it may actually break, and we don't want that to happen." The man starts to demonstrate, and a blushing Kurt fades away. He awkwardly pulls on the condom, remembering some tips from the little he had skimmed in his father's pamphlets. Press out the air from the tip, make sure the lube is on the outward side of the condom, and roll it gently on. Kurt scrunches his nose as he gets his hand all lubed, thinking it's a bit disgusting, and if he feels like that now, how will he feel by actual sex, more lube and body fluids? Nah, he'll be a baby penguin for at least a decade more, living for simple and romantic finger touches. He blushes as he puts the banana down on the desk, far away, before glancing around the class room. Blaine has put down his wrapped fruit as well, hands resting in his lap, and Kurt recognizes his slightly blank, but polite and semi-interested face he often pulls on in class to convince the teacher he is paying 110 per cent attention. Wes and David are actually fencing with their condom-bananas, and it's the most rebellious he's seen a Dalton boy act in class, but Kurt guesses a class like this may give some odd behaviour when people have to face some embarrassment and awkwardness. Kurt then spots Nick and Jeff, who are looking intently in each other's eyes while rolling slowly and theatrically on their condoms. Kurt moves his gaze away immediately, feeling he intruded on something that in all fairness ought to be behind bedroom doors.

When Mr. Lorenzo concludes all boys have managed to put on a condom, he goes into a speech about what he calls basic sex rules. He talks about how one must respect each other, people have different boundaries and limits, and it's important to not push those – unless one is allowed. He talks about personal space and sex being the most intimate and personal thing to do, and he talks about how wrong it is to force oneself on someone – 'no' always means 'no', no matter what. He talks about dignity and respect, about sex being something mutually agreed between two – or more – people. "Even a small kiss is something private, personal and intimate, and should be offered, not thrown on people." It hits a bit too close to home for Kurt, and he stiffens up, holds his back straight, eyes focused on nothing far away.

The bell rings, and the class is dismissed for the next fifteen minutes. Kurt gets up on shaking legs, heading to the nearest restroom. He needs some water, some air, to get out, something. In the hallway, a gentle hand is laid to rest on his lower back, and Kurt unconsciously leans into the familiar scent and touch of Blaine. He is being led into an empty classroom, and Blaine locks the door before stopping in front of Kurt, carefully examining his face.

"You OK?"

"Ye-hes," Kurt says, suddenly exhaling a breath he doesn't know he had been holding. "I just wasn't prepared for such a reminder, I haven't thought about it for a while."

Blaine tilts his head, steps a bit closer, and opens his arms, inviting Kurt into a hug if he wants one. Kurt gratefully accepts, and the boys embrace each other.

"You haven't had any nightmares in a while," Blaine says.

"That's true, I hadn't thought about that either. It must mean I feel safe and relaxed here," Kurt answers, enjoying how Blaine is rubbing a thumb up and down his spine.

"I'm glad," his friends sighs, with a smile in his voice.

The boys stay in their embrace, both enjoying the warmth and closeness. Kurt has really missed his friend during the day, and is humble when he realizes that although Blaine has been distant and obviously caught up with this guy all day, he still steps up as a real friend when it's called for. Kurt is going to take whatever he is offered from this wonderful boy.

All too soon they have to head back for class, and Blaine escorts Kurt back to his desk by holding his hand, giving him a warm and sincere smile before heading back to his own desk. Kurt sighs inwardly and slides down in his chair. Yeah, it'll be difficult to find anyone that can measure up to Blaine some time in the future, and he can't really picture himself with someone else either. But obviously friendship is the limit for their relationship, so that'll have to do for a while.

For the next class, Mr. Lorenzo teaches about what he calls various sexual activities. He talks about oral sex on men and women, penetrative sex with women, anal sex, hand jobs, kinks and fetishes, and seems like a walking encyclopaedia of sex. Kurt is sweaty and flustered from embarrassment, but tries to listen. It might after all come in as handy knowledge some time. He isn't able to watch Mr. Lorenzo – or any other – in the eyes, so he's studying his hands on his desk. But his ears are paying attention.

Finally, the man answers the questions he's gotten, before handing out various pamphlets to the boys.

As the class is dismissed, Blaine ejects from his chairs and sprints out of the classroom, phone tucked firmly in hand. Kurt sighs; his friend seems to have fallen hard for that boy, whoever it is. Hopefully it isn't someone at Dalton, because Kurt doesn't think he could handle watching them together all the time. Kurt shoots off a text to Mercedes, asking if she's available for coffee later on. He really needs to see his girl now. He hasn't been able to go home or visit his McKinley-friends after transferring to Dalton, it simply has been too hectic. Sure, he's talked with them on the phone, but it can never replace actually being with them.

Kurt heads for the choir room and Warbler's practice. He suddenly remembers they'll get to know the results of the auditions today, and the butterflies in Kurt's tummy wake up again. Now would be a good time to have a friend calming him down. Blaine is nowhere to be seen, so Kurt tries to call Mercedes. No reply. Maybe they still have classes at McKinley? It's strange how quickly one can forget routines, but he honestly can't remember his schedule at his old school any more. Kurt sends a quick text to Rachel as well, asking if she's free to talk – that girl never fails to answer her phone immediately. And sure enough, shortly after he gets an answer. "_Sorry, busy._" Kurt is stunned. Not only is he being rejected, but this isn't any near the usual mile long ranting Rachel has a habit of writing. Have his friends forgotten about him? Have they already moved on, without him? A childish part of Kurt wants to text each and every member of New Directions, forcing at least one of them to talk to him, see him – even Santana or Mike would be nice now, and he doesn't quite understand the first and really doesn't know the second. Kurt sighs again, wiping away a traitorous tear. He feels so lonely without both Blaine and his old friends. Of course he could always call his father, but this isn't exactly an emergency, and he doesn't want to worry or freak out his father without reason. And calling during work hours would without doubt make his father concerned.

A heavy dip in the couch in the practice room startles Kurt, and he looks up at the grinning faces of Nick and Jeff, sitting on either side of him.

"Hey Kurt, aren't you glad we didn't have to listen to Mrs. Adams talk about rimming?" Jeff exclaims? Kurt blushes, but laughs. Yeah, that would have made the rest of the year of math… interesting. The boys laugh with him.

"I really prefer math classes when it's talk about 6 and 9," Nick adds, making the boys crack up again. Kurt should have been more embarrassed, but the couple is just too hilarious.

"On a completely different matter, Kurt, do you have your sleeping bag here?"

"No, I have a perfectly good bed in my dorm, why should I?"

"We're entering hell weekend, which means a lot of practice to prefer for Sectionals, so usually it's a good idea to get some sleep when you can, and the Council won't excuse us from this room more than they have to. Being dead tired obviously isn't a good enough reason," Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

"It can't be that bad? I'm sure I'll manage," Kurt replies, thinking back to several long days at McKinley with school, Glee practice, Cheerios-practice and then homework.

Nick and Jeff just look at each other, and Kurt gets a sneaking suspicion he might be up for a surprise.

"How are you settling down here?" the boys then ask.

"The classes are harder, but the kids are kinder," Kurt rambles off, his usual response to his family or Glee-friends when they ask. He then realizes he's let it shine through that he didn't have a good time at McKinley, and starts back pedalling. "You know, everyone here is so dapper and polite, not like public school-kids who need to be tamed, and…"

"I came to Dalton March last year with a broken collar bone and a terrified hatred to my old school," Nick quietly tells him.

"A lot of the students here have their stories about how much they need the zero tolerance bullying-policy. And a lot of us are blessed with rich parents, so we didn't have to test out public school and if we would need such a policy," Jeff says.

Kurt gives both boys a thankful look, Nick carefully bumping into his shoulder.

"But you are right," Jeff adds. "The classes are painful. Have any of you even begun reading for the geography test we have tomorrow?"

Neither have had any time because there have been so much else to prepare and write, so the three boys agree to meet in Kurt's room after dinner and drill each other in European countries, flags and capitals.

* * *

"It is with deep regret I have to announce you this, as Blaine is more than enough of a handful, but our second soloist for Sectionals will be…" David takes his time to look at each and every single one of those who auditioned last night. "The eager furniture jumper, Kurt Hummel!"

The room explodes in congratulations, honest smiles and friendly pats on his back, and more than one comment laughing about increasing his tuition money to cover for more broken furniture. At that moment Kurt really feels included and at home. It hardly stings anymore that right before practice started, he got a short text from Mercedes telling him she might have time for coffee during the weekend. He doesn't want to lose his old friends, but it feels good to have new friends as well. Kurt beams, and the world seems perfect when Blaine embraces him in a warm, tender and long hug, whispering in his ear.

"I knew you'd make it, hon, you were perfect."

Yeah, so that one stung. Kurt longs to hear Blaine call him honey and other loving nicknames, but he never will. He guesses Blaine has been flirting and talking so much with his crush lately, that the name of endearment came out after using it too much the last days. Just a slip of tongue, a mistake, a habit directed to the wrong boy. Kurt swallows.

"You just watch out, Mr. Anderson, maybe you'll find yourself rejected as soloist at the next crossroad?"

"Oh, is that a challenge? I will have to find a way to work around such an outcome then, won't I?" Blaine smiles teasingly, arms still draped around Kurt.

Both boys laugh, but Kurt scolds himself. Stupid, stupid crush on his best friend, way to ruin something good.

Wes bangs his gavel on the desk, forcing the Warblers to gather for their practice.

* * *

"No," Jeff corrects. "The capital of Austria is Vienna."

"It should be Salzburg," Kurt huffs. "It's the birth place of Mozart, it's where _Sound of Music_ was filmed, whatever do we know about Vienna? How am I supposed to remember that?"

"What if you try to think about Vivienne Westwood? It's fairly similar," Nick suggests.

"That might actually work, thank you!" Kurt beams, repeating in his head Austria – Vivienne Westwood, Austria – Vivienne Westwood.

The boys continue their studying for a while, asking about capitals, showing flags and drilling each other. Kurt holds up drawings of the flags for Norway and Iceland, demanding Niff to tell who's who.

"But they are just too similar!" both boys exclaims annoyed, making Kurt laugh. Finally they make up their mind, and Kurt can tell them they got the flags mixed up.

"We're so screwed," the three boys agree, and pack away their stuff. Their minds can't digest any more facts tonight, now all they can do is just rely on luck and faith for tomorrow's test. Kurt throws a quick glance at his phone, both to see if he has any texts and check what time it is. He sighs. No texts, and it's already past 10 o' clock. Blaine would always come by in due time to help him get dressed for the night. Apparently he's busy and distracted tonight.

"What's up?" the other boys ask.

"Oh, nothing," Kurt dismisses.

"Yeah, that was a typical 'nothing'-sigh," Jeff answers, sarcasm dripping off of his voice. Kurt is slightly impressed; usually he's the one mastering that particular art.

"It's just… Blaine…" Kurt doesn't know how to tell the boys the embarrassing truth how he needs help to get dressed and undressed, but by mentioning his crush's name, the other two sits straighter, expecting him to continue.

"Well, not everything is as easy to do with one hand as when you have two hands, so Blaine has kind of been helping me with… stuff, but it's getting late, so I guess he's forgotten all about me for tonight."

"And what would 'stuff' entail?" the boys asks, grinning wickedly at Kurt.

"Oh the two of you, it's not as how it sounds. He's just helping me getting undressed." Yeah, Kurt realizes as he says it that was the entirely wrong way to put his words, and he reddens like a tomato while the other two falls over on the floor from laughing too hard.

"Guys…" Kurt tries, but to no avail. "Oh my God, honestly, have any of you ever tried to cope with only one functioning arm?"

"Kuuuuurt, don't take away our fun!" Jeff squeaks, still laughing.

Nick has gathered himself somewhat more. "OK, I remember how painful and difficult some things could be when my collarbone was broken, so I'll give you that. But are you telling us you wouldn't want Blaine to get you undressed when that cast is long gone?"

Kurt didn't think he could redden anymore. Clearly, he was wrong.

"I believe we both have reached the age where it is both expected and usual to get in and out of clothes on your own."

"Oh Kurt, stupidity is so not your colour," Nick shakes his head. "Now give us the juicy details. We can see with our eyes shut that you have it bad for Blaine. So spill it."

Kurt takes a deep breath, and tries to remember why boarding had seemed like such a good idea. He is getting really fond of Nick and Jeff, but it isn't easy to keep secrets at a boarding school.

"There really isn't anything to spill. We are good friends, even best friends, I think. Blaine is a… nice guy." Kurt's eyes dart around, not meeting the boys curious looks, and Kurt's voice trembles slightly.

"Oh Kurt," Nick says, giving Kurt a quick hug. "Zero tolerance bullying-policy, remember? It's perfectly fine to like another boy; nobody will look down on you for it here. Now, let's gush on Blaine like the mature men we are." Nick sits down between Jeff's legs, both boys relaxing and waiting for Kurt to talk. Kurt sighs exaggeratedly, but the butterflies are back in his tummy, and yeah, it would be nice to have someone at school to talk about Blaine with. Maybe it'll make it easier not to explode from emotions in front of said boy.

"Have you ever met someone you connect with immediately, and you just _get_ each other from the first moment on? Have you ever met someone who makes the air easier to breath, who makes life a beautiful song, who just makes perfect sense and seems like a piece of yourself you have been missing, but at the same time is an improvement and an extension of yourself?"

Nick and Jeff look at each other.

"We have," they answer with eyes locked.

Kurt smiles, the two really are adorable together. He then sighs, because obviously he never will have what they have.

"It doesn't matter how I feel, because Blaine is seeing someone else," he mumbles.

"He is seeing someone?" Nick and Jeff look surprised and confused.

"A blind monk could see that," Kurt explains. "He has clearly fallen hard for this boy; he can't seem to think about anything else these days." OK, maybe it has only been today so far, but to be honest Kurt hadn't spent much time with Blaine yesterday as he had been busy with his audition, so Kurt chooses to assume Blaine had been as far off as he has been today.

"This would be news to us," Nick says.

"I kind of had the impression Blaine had you in sight," Jeff adds.

It hurts to hear Jeff say so, as Kurt had been building up a little hope that he might be seeing some signs of feelings towards him from Blaine. If others have seen it as well, it hurts even more to realize Blaine is seeing someone else. Just typical, Kurt thinks, so typical him to mistake friendly gestures for a crush. He should know how tactile, polite, friendly and outgoing Blaine is, and not just towards Kurt.

"What makes you think Blaine is seeing someone?" Nick finally asks.

"He's been glued to his phone the last days, he's wearing this silly grin, he's unfocused, he hasn't got as much time as usual for me anymore, he's texting non-stop but still can't answer my texts, and he just seems to be glowing from happiness. I'm glad for him, but still…"

Jeff and Nick share an odd look, almost smiling, but wiping them off to be replaced by neutral faces.

"Oh Kurt, don't worry, I'm sure this will work out in the end for you guys, don't get so low from a suspicion," Nick says, pulling the boy into a hug.

"We should get back to our rooms and find some sleep. Do you want to find Blaine to help you get ready for bed, or do you want us to help you?"

Kurt imagines Blaine in bed, texting that most certainly gorgeous and smart boy he has found, and the thought of interrupting it makes him uncomfortable.

"It's the shirt and all the buttons that are too tricky…" he says, hoping the boys really feel fine with helping him.

They all stand up, and Nick quickly unbuttons the shirt and helps him pull the sleeve over the cast. Without pain and without embarrassment, and Kurt is grateful. He can't name three boys from New Directions who would be as comfortable about this as Blaine, Nick, and Jeff have been. Is it because they are gay, or are the students here more tolerant and open minded? Would Wes or David help him the same way? Somehow, Kurt actually thinks they would.

"Anything else we can assist you with?"

"No thank you, I'll manage from here. But thank you, for everything."

The boys smile, wave and head out from his room. Kurt changes to his pyjama pants, before going to the bathroom for his evening skin care routine. He can't help it, but puts his ear unto the door into Blaine as he locks it. From Blaine's room, he can hear the boy's muffled voice, probably on the phone, and his oh so nice laughter. Kurt swallows. It's a good thing he's getting closer to Nick and Jeff, so he won't depend so much on Blaine anymore.

* * *

**AN: I have borrowed the name for the organization Danny represents from an actual American organization - _Advocates for Youth_. I have also let their homepage inspire me slightly, but 95 per cent of what Danny says and preaches are from my own philosophy about the subject, and AfY cannot be held responsible for anything. But I would recommend visiting them, as they seem like an organization worthy some attention. I am not American, so there are probably many other good organizations as well, but this was the one I choose to settle with now, primarily to get a name for this fiction.**


	10. Blushing Bride

**AN: Please apologize the abrupt ending to this chapter, but it was difficult to find a logical place to cut it - the chapter will continue, though.**

**Thank you for all the nice reviews after the last chapter, it's nice to know people actually read this!  
I got some comments on the boys' geography test. I don't know anything about curriculum in American schools. I'm European myself, and when I was in high school we were taught about the American states, culture, etc - so I thought I'd mirror that, and let the boys be taught about European countries for now. Mind you, it is not important, it was just something to make the boys talk, interact and get to know each other - and I couldn't let them study for chemistry or anything like that, 'cause I know nothing about it! :D  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

If Kurt thinks Blaine had been distant and ignoring him the day before, it turns out it had only been a preview for how Blaine acts during Friday. Kurt feels neglected, forgotten, replaced and tossed away. In all fairness, Blaine had come by his dorm the last night to offer help getting ready for bed, but Kurt had pretended to be asleep, not quite ready to face the music. The music of love songs that Blaine obviously is floating on. He had accepted his help this morning, though, because he didn't have many other options, not wanting to call Nick or Jeff for such a trivial – and humiliating – task. As soon as Blaine had finished, he had fled the scene, not offering to eat breakfast together, not suggesting coffee together, not walking him to class, no nothing. So Kurt swallows the lump in his throat, wills the tears to stay behind his eyes, and walks on with head held high. He shouldn't feel so disappointed, it's not like Blaine and he are dating, he has no commitments to Kurt. But still, he thought their friendship is worth something, but maybe bros before hoes doesn't count among gay guys?

It's not until Warblers' practice Kurt actually sees Blaine again. He has been invisible during the entire school day, nowhere to be seen during lunch, and during one class they share Kurt actually suspects Blaine skipped, as he never showed up. For sure Blaine will be able to charm himself out of trouble with the teacher, but still, it's alarming. Maybe Kurt should step up as a friend, and tell Blaine to cool down and get his act together. Boyfriend or no boyfriend, he still has an education to maintain. Maybe he should warn Wes and David, so they could give Blaine that talk?

"How did the test go?" Nick asks as he and his boyfriend slump down in the couch were Kurt is sitting. The geography test they had been studying for last night had been in the last class before Warblers'.

"You know what, I think it went really well. I am surprised, but I think I managed most of it. Thank you for making me associate Vienna with Vivienne Westwood – I nailed that one, at least," Kurt grins, glad he can focus on something he has actually accomplished with success today, instead of pining over a love struck Blaine. "And you guys?"

"I think I still got the flags for Norway and Iceland mixed up," Jeff sighs sadly. "And I made a lot of guessing, there are sooo many countries in Europe." Nick quickly pecks Jeff on the cheek.

"I think I did decent, neither success nor disaster," Nick shrugs.

"Warblers, please gather up and pay attention!" voices Wes loudly as he bangs his gavel. "Today we'll start working on the harmonies for _Victorious_."

The boys split up in groups to work on their voices, leaving Kurt idle and fidgeting. He is trying to think about choreography, to occupy his mind, but really it isn't his force in such a big group. He is squirming in the couch, not failing to notice some of the odd looks and quirky smiles he's getting from several of the boys. Are they upset by the song choice? Are they blaming him for having to learn a whole new number in such short time before Sectionals? Kurt doesn't feel comfortable, and although it's not like being back in the hallways at McKinley among the jocks and idiots, he really wants to be somewhere else right now.

"OK boys, it's about time to wrap up for now, you know the drill for the rest of the weekend," Wes eventually interrupts. Kurt is surprised, it's still 30 minutes left of their ordinary session time, and so close to a competition he would have expected them to work overtime, not finish in due time. But, Wes has booked them for practice from noon on Saturday until midnight on Sunday, so Kurt isn't worried they won't practice enough. Maybe what they need today is a somewhat shorter day, to not exhaust themselves.

"One finale announcement before you are dismissed. Although the Warblers carry on more than two hundred years old traditions, the Council has decided to incorporate a new tradition this year. We believe it will be a nice exercise to further learn some of the important values the Dalton Academy strives to teach their students: Being a compassionate, selfless, sharing, and considerate gentleman. So without further ado – this year the Warblers are doing Secret Santa." Wes announces.

Eager and excited voices fill the room, not a protest is heard. All boys seem happy with this project.

"Secret Santa starts today. There are no requirements or expectations, except for being extra considerate and nice to the person you are Santa to. We are entering a stressful time, both academically and generally for the Christmas season, but with Secret Santa you all are forced to wind down and think about something else than yourself and books, and obviously all of you will also earn from it as at least one person is thinking about you and making an extra effort for you. We will all have a better December because of it. During our first practice after Christmas, the Santa's will be revealed. I have here a pile of notes, with a name on each, and I'll hand them out now. The name on the note is the person you are to act as a Secret Santa for. Any questions?" David asks, as he gets up and starts handing out the folded notes.

Then the Warblers' are dismissed, but David tells Kurt to approach the council. He hasn't done anything wrong, has he? Are they regretting choosing him after the auditions? Kurt walks silently, hesitantly to the table were the three boys in the Council are seated, head hung low, brows wrinkled with concern. In a warm, friendly voice, David asks if he has any suggestions for the _Victorious_-performance. As Kurt begins shooting off his few thoughts on choreography so far, he suddenly feels the heat from another person standing oh so close to his back intruding his personal space, but before he can step away he has been blindfolded with some soft material, and his favorite voice is chuckling "Surprise" in his left ear. Kurt tenses, because he utterly _hates_ surprises. He's about to protest, but two warm hands are resting on his shoulder, and Blaine's soft voice quickly whispers "trust me", before turning him around 180 degrees. Kurt knows he has lost, he can never object to Blaine when the boy has his hands on him, skin still numb and ticklish from the last two words brushed against his ear. Blaine rubs his thumbs comfortingly on the top of Kurt's shoulder blades, as he steers him a couple of steps forward.

It feels chilly when Blaine removes his hands, and Kurt feels so naked and vulnerable, standing alone, blinded, and disoriented, even though he should consider himself being among friends. His breath hitches, he feels dizzy, and is cold sweating. He has an urge to rip off the blindfold. But then he feels the gentle press of a hand on his lower back, grounding him, and he just knows it is Blaine. Kurt lowers his uptight shoulders, deciding he can take whatever they have planned, because Blaine is there.

"Dearly beloved," Wes states close to Kurt's right side, making him startle slightly. "We present for you our newest member of the Warblers. We are fond of traditions in this establishment," he continues, making Kurt roll his eyes behind the soft material. "It is therefore way overdue to host our traditional welcoming party we always splurge for our new members. Kurt," Wes continues, placing his hand on Kurt's right upper arm. "Welcome to Warblers, this is your surprise party!"

As on queue, the room explodes in noise as the boys assumingly get up from their seats to make preparations or whatever, Kurt can't quite decipher behind the blindfold. He's about to remove it, but someone swats his hand away, and pulls him off. As he stumbles on a threshold, he stops abruptly, demanding to be told what's going on.

"But boo, it's a surprise," a familiar voice says, a voice he hasn't heard in quite some time. Kurt chokes on air.

"Mercedes?"

"You know it. Now come here, you have to get ready for your party."

Kurt now follows with easy, bouncy steps, really looking forward to see his friend again. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but maybe she'll be allowed to attend the party as well? He rattles off questions, but is quickly silenced.

"Wait till we are in your room, I don't want you stumbling down winding stairs or walking right into fancy marble columns, so focus on following me for now."

Kurt quickly obeys, but his ears are strained. He thought he had heard someone else as well. Mercedes is walking in front of him, pulling him by his hand. Kurt is quite sure he can hear footsteps behind him, in the otherwise silent hallway.

"Mercedes, we aren't alone, are we?"

But Mercedes just chuckles. "White boy, don't they teach you any manners here? Or to have patience? I told you to wait."

Kurt resigns, and tries instead to figure out were they are going, and if he can identify some of the sounds behind him. After a while a girly voice giggles and Kurt is pretty sure it is Brittany. If she is here, then probably Santana is as well. Kurt brightens up, maybe this surprise isn't so bad after all. It'll be nice to see some of his girls again.

They suddenly stop, Kurt almost ploughing into Mercedes' back. He hears some fumbling and rustling with a key and a door handle, before being pulled through three doors. Kurt knows, because he stumbles in all three thresholds. Someone behind him fidgets with the knot on the back of his head, and he is momentarily blinded as the material is removed, eyes blinking rapidly in the bright light. In front of him stands not only Mercedes, but all six of his girlfriends from New Directions; Brittany as he suspected, Santana, Rachel, Tina and Quinn. Kurt looks at them thoroughly, before exclaiming.

"Oh my God! What on earth are you wearing?"

Rachel opens her mouth first.

"Kurt, you should know that we are here as your friends, and we hope this will be an evening without hostility and spying, even though we are from competing Glee clubs."

Kurt rolls his eyes. They aren't even meeting each other at Sectionals, so this is just Rachel being her normally hilarious.

"Yeah, yeah," Santana bites her off. "This party is for Kurt, we've been invited, and it is a theme party, 1950s being the queue, so we got the chance to put on fabulous clothes," Santana smirks, showing off her outfit. She's wearing a skin clutching piece resembling the one Sandy wore in _Grease_, except this one is bright red. She has matching heels and a short black leather jacket draped over her shoulders.

The other girls are wearing equally well planned outfits. Mercedes is strutting in a pink halter neck with black polka dots, a black belt, and a pink headband in her volumized hair. Tina is in baby blue tight capri pants, matching pumps and socks with blondes, big yellow sunglasses, a baby pink t-shirt and a white knitted cardigan. Around her neck she has draped a ribbon matching the pants. Rachel is going for the Audrey Hepburn-look, with a long, slim apricot dress with drapes meeting over her left shoulder, and long white silk gloves. Brittany is wearing a bright pink skirt perfect for dancing swing, a black t-shirt with collar and three buttons, a small pink ribbon around her neck, and her hair put up in a high pony tail. Quinn is pulling off the innocent look, with a white dress with a lot of blondes, a baby pink belt and a nice shawl over her shoulders.

"Come on Kurt," Quinn says, "we have to get you dressed for your party."

Then Kurt notices they are standing in his room, and there are several bags on the floor.

"You are going to have an awesome Welcome to the Warbler's-party, and then we are going to have an even more awesome girl's night in your room, and we won't leave until we've had a really late breakfast tomorrow," Mercedes says, making it sound like a promise. Kurt bounces and jumps around, giddy with happiness. Finally he gets to hug and embrace his friends, and it takes some minutes before they can start prettying him.

"Oooh, let's see, what kind of clothes have you brought for me?" he finally says, looking longingly at the bags.

The girls squeal of excitement as well, pulling out various clothing items and hair styling products.

After a lot of hugs, twirls, roaming of bags, and some debate, they settle on an outfit. Rachel starts pulling on the sleeves of Kurt's blazer.

"Stop it, Rachel," he says, brushing away her hands, "I can dress myself."

"Oh, rumors have it you let your gorgeous neighbor help you when you are in a helpless state," Tina teases. Kurt blinks a couple of times, trying to remember if the neighbor of his father, Mrs. Dale, had ever been babysitting him or helped him with his clothes.

"Mrs. Dale?" he asks, still confused as no particular memory comes to his mind.

"No, we're talking about one Mr. Anderson," Mercedes smirks, making the other girls giggle. "We have been talking a lot lately, and he accidentally let it slip how he helped you getting dressed and undressed."

"Wanky!" Santana exclaims.

Kurt had forgotten he was disappointed and upset about Mercedes and Rachel blowing him off, but he hadn't quite forgotten how distant Blaine had been the last days. Could there actually be another explanation than another boy?

"You've talked? A lot?"

"Yeah, the last couple of days he's been planning this party, so him and I have been constantly on the phone after he decided to invite us. Boo, he's so hot it even seeps through the phone!"

Kurt blushes, even though it should be Blaine's response to such a compliment.

"If you let a hottie you've known for a month or so help you get undressed, you shouldn't mind us long lasting friends helping you either," Tina concludes. Kurt laughs.

"You're right. I'm your mannequin, let the show commence!" he says, straightening out his arms.

Brittany envelopes him in a tight hug. "You're my favorite dolphin, and now I get to play dress up with you as well," she smiles.

After a surprisingly short amount of time, Kurt finds himself standing in front of the big mirror he bough during the first weekend, when he and Blaine had been exploring the town and having that nice lunch at Granny's. The girls have helped him make his coif bigger, softer and more volumized. Carefully put on top of it, just to complete the picture, is a gray fedora with a shimmering black velvet band around it. Because of his cast, they had to reject the girl's favorite outfit, which included a red leather jacket. But he's wearing a really nice white shirt. Santana made him leave the first two buttons open, adding a slim baby pink tie with shimmer to loop loosely around the collar. Both sleeves are rolled up, because of the cast, to make him look more symmetrical. Black dress pants in a soft material with shiny silk piping down the sides, somewhat more loose than Kurt usually wears, finishes the outfit, with black glittering suspenders as the icing of the cake.

Kurt scrutinizes the reflection in the mirror. It's more toned down than he would usually wear, but most of the guys have really only seem him in the Dalton uniform during daytime, or in sweatpants or casual jeans lounging around in the evenings. The outfit feels like him, and he likes it. The black and white wingtips are a nice bonus, and he can't wait to show off, wondering if the Warblers will be wearing appropriately themed outfits as well.

"Thank you so much for putting this together for me," he says heartfelt to the girls. "You are wonderful!"

After a quick photo shoot – because really, this is an outfit to remember – they head back down to where the girls had picked him up. They haven't been away more than an hour, but Kurt is amazed by the transformation of the room. The piano has been replaced by an actual jukebox, in all its glory. The couches have been moved to one end of the room, and several big cushions are gathered as well, to make more seating. On the far end wall is a big roll down screen playing _Grease_ on low volume. A long table is covered with various soft drinks and snacks, and to his joy Kurt spots several vintage boxes, cans and wrappings. By the end of the table is a cotton candy machine, served by Wes who produces several pink fluffy snacks on a stick.

As Kurt absorbs the surroundings, Blaine approaches him with a retro looking plastic cup and a straw. Kurt curiously accepts it, discovering it is chocolate milkshake. He almost chokes on it when he sees what Blaine is sporting. Somehow, he's managed to redo his heavily gelled down hair in the short time, making it look more like James Dean, even with a loose stray of hair curling down his forehead. He's wearing a tight, tight white t-shirt with a v-neck. It's almost transparent and clinging to his arms and chest; Kurt imagines he can see each and every one of the boy's muscles through the thin fabric. The t-shirt is tucked into a pair of really tight black jeans, and Blaine is wearing a dark pink belt. A black leather jacket finishes the outfit. Blaine looks hot! So different from his usual style, but still very much Blaine, just a bit rougher, not so preppy. Kurt realizes he actually has some stubble to complement the entire outfit. How didn't he notice that earlier that day? Oh, because he hadn't seen the boy at all, that's right.

"How do I look?" Blaine asks, twirling around. Kurt blushes, swallows thickly, stutters.

"You look…"

"He looks hot, doesn't he, Kurt?" Santana interrupts, big grin on face.

Kurt blushes even more. "Yeah, he does…"

Blaine chuckles, blushes slightly, before complimenting Kurt.

"I love your outfit. You look amazing!"

Kurt decides this is a good moment to take a big sip of his milkshake. He scans the room, and is excited to see that all of the other Warblers have changed out of uniform as well. Not everyone has managed to plan their outfits as well as his girls have, but they are sporting various outfits seemingly inspired by _Grease_, James Dean, Elvis or the more dapper suit-style. But which Warbler has a mohawk? Kurt squints his eyes, before he yells.

"Noah Puckerman, are my eyes deceiving me?" The boy in question is wearing wide marine pants, a white shirt, a light brown knitted buttoned vest and a long jacket in the same color and material as the pants. The boy shimmies over, grinning, hands tucked in his pockets.

"What's up, Hummel?" he says, inviting the boy to a high five. As if on signal, the other New Direction-boys appear as well, and Kurt can't grasp how he managed to overlook his freakishly tall brother or Artie in a wheel chair, Mike freestyling with some of the Warblers, or the blonde locks of Sam. Kurt is thrilled to see all of his 11 friends from New Directions are here. He knows they have found a replacement singer, to make sure they are 12 and eligible for competing, but as he has never meet this Lauren, so he doesn't mind her absence. The five boys eagerly hug and high five him, making the six girls hug him once again.

"Everybody, if you don't have drinks in hand; make sure you have, and let's sit down," Wes suddenly exclaims over the noise in the room, and Kurt is surprised to see the gavel isn't being used. He is also glad to see that the drinks on the table are purely non-alcoholic. He just hopes Puck hasn't brought anything.

Blaine grabs Kurt's hand, yanking him off to the sitting corner. They settle down on a pillow each, and the girls gather in a big couch behind them. After not long, everyone's settled down, with something to drink in hand.

"Everybody, welcome to Kurt's initiating party! An extra welcome to the New Directions who are here to see Kurt well off in our capable hands," says David, making Kurt blush like a bride, and he feels like he's being handed over like a bride as well.

"We have great traditions in the Warblers, and in these parties we want to get to know our newest member. Therefore, each Warbler get to ask Kurt one question each. As we expect his old Glee club to know him very well, we would like you to reveal one fact each about Kurt for us, instead of asking him something."

The Warblers cheer at Wes' businesslike and to the point-speech, while Kurt feels his heart drop into his stomach. He wonders what his friends will say about him.

"Relax, you don't have to tell us anything you're not comfortable with," Blaine whispers in his ear. "Besides, we're not cruel; the questions are usually quite harmless."

Kurt isn't worried about his new friend's questions, he can answer as truthfully and as detailed he wants. What he dreads, is giving up all of his control to the New Direction's, not being able to filter anything – he knows they know him; they know him too well, and he can't imagine what they will choose to tell. Still, Kurt actually relaxes by Blaine's voice and words and leans slightly towards him, whispering a "thank you".

The Warblers are looking expectantly at the McKinley High's Glee-club. Kurt's old friends are looking at each other, trying to decide who should go first. Santana huffs impatiently, wipes her hair away from her face, and opens her mouth.

"Kurt is a champion Cheerio," Santana smirks. The blank faces on the Warblers prompt Santana to explain how they are the cheerleaders at McKinley. She further tells them about both _4 Minutes_ with Mercedes and how Kurt helped them win Nationals by singing a 14 minutes long solo of a Céline Dion-medley in French.

Suddenly the sound of a brass band is filling the room, and on the big screen on the opposite end of the room, a video of the _4 Minutes_-performance has replaced the screening of _Grease_. Someone obviously has been playing around on a laptop while Santana told them about it. As the camera finds Kurt and Mercedes, a big cheer fills the room.

"You are telling me more about this later on," Blaine whispers in Kurt's ear. He hasn't time to answer, before someone else shouts a question.

"So Kurt, are there many videos like this of you online?"

"Doesn't this posh school teach you how to google?" Santana replies with an eye roll.

Some of the Warblers are about to defend their honor, so Puck cuts in to prevent any argument at Kurt's party.

"Kurt is a kick ass kicker," Puck tells, and he looks at him with pride.

"A cheerleader and a football player? That seems quite busy," Thad says.

"I was a football player first, then I switched team," Kurt explains.

"He won us the only game we nailed that season," Finn adds.

"Oh Kurt, we have to show them _Single Ladies_!" Tina interrupts. It is impossible to protest when 11 Glee kids and 15 Warblers verbally push Kurt up from his pillow. David in all his kindness finds the song on Youtube while Puck and Sam explain how the song featured as an important strategy in the one match they won.

Tina and Brittany back him up, and it's almost embarrassing to notice how little of the dance routine has been forgotten. Kurt has to do some adjustment because of the cast, but his arm doesn't throb any more, so he's more concerned with knocking himself out than causing pain to the arm.

The performance is met with whooping cheers and encouraging exclamations. As Kurt goes back to his pillow, he thinks he sees an odd look in Blaine's eyes, but then Blaine blinks and his normal gaze is there.

As the trio gets back to their seats, Brittany tells the room Kurt is an excellent kisser. There's no secret Kurt is gay, and he can see curious glances, so he quickly adds "Spin the bottle, you know", before propping his milkshake in Brittany's mouth. Luckily no one asks anything more, and Kurt is glad, he isn't up to elaborate on his short lived identity crisis.

Then Finn tells them Kurt is his dear little brother, making Kurt huff because he is actually two months older, but he smiles bright, because he is really flattered that that's what Finn chooses to tell about him. Rachel tells Kurt is almost as good a singer as she is, making most people in the room roll their eyes, even though not all of them have actually heard the girl sing.

Sam tells Kurt is a really good friend who can be trusted with any kind of secret and always gives a hand when someone needs help. Mike gives an entertaining story about how his car once broke down and got a flat tire, and how Kurt had fixed both. The car had been filled with members of the New Directions on their way to the movies, but Kurt had been the only one knowing what to do. That story earns Kurt a lot of approving looks, making him beam. He thoroughly enjoys being more than meets the eyes.

Both Quinn and Artie entertain the audience with some funny blooper-stories, but Mercedes who claims to be his best friend, is the one who reveals the most embarrassing story. She tells about drunken Kurt puking up on the guidance counsellor's shoes at school, making someone comment how fortunate this is a non-alcoholic party.

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**AN: The party continues in next chapter.**


	11. Swing It

**AN: Thank you so much for reviewing, alerting and favoriting my story!**

**The party continues in this party, hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own neither Glee nor hits from the 1950s.**

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After the New Direction-guys finish talking about Kurt, the Warblers ask their questions to continue getting to know him better. He braces himself, not quite sure what to expect. Blaine gently bumps his shoulder to get his attention, and Kurt looks up. Blaine smiles at him and Kurt smiles back.

The questions are quite trivial and easy to answer. Favorite song (_Defying Gravity_ – and yes, I can sing it, even the high F), favorite movie (_Sound of Music_), favorite colour (aqua blue), and so on. Then someone wants him to describe his dream date, making Kurt think for a while.

"I'm quite old fashioned and romantic. I don't need adventures, extreme experiences or expensive glamour. I just want to feel appreciated and cherished, and being able to return it. The most important thing is who I'm with." Kurt doesn't know what else to add, because he's never been on a date before, and although he has been dreaming various scenarios this is the most truthful answer he wants to give for now.

Someone asks about his plans for the future (New York, oh my God, yes, anything in New York), coffee order (grande non-fat mocha) and who he would to be if he had to live another person's life (Patti LuPone). Then a guy Kurt hasn't spoken that much with, he thinks he's called Sean, asks about the cast.

"What happened to you? Are you an adventurous bad ass, or are you just clumsy?"

Kurt tenses, chokes on his own breath and feels the cold shiver down his spine. Blaine puts a comforting hand on his lower back, whispering a rushed reminder he doesn't have to answer. Finn, who knows the whole story, has stood up. He is standing with wide legs in front of Kurt, pointing a finger at Sean.

"Dude…" he says, and the threat is unsaid and loud.

"Finn," Kurt says silently, tugging at the hem of his brother's pants from his place on the floor. Finn mumbles a hardly convincing "sorry" while sitting down and Wes proclaims it's time for some music. He fiddles with the jukebox, and the room is filled with hits from the 1950s. Shortly after all of the girls are engaged in dance with the Warblers. They aren't spoiled with oestrogen and femininity at the school, so the starvation makes the boys quickly propose dancing, and the girls will probably be on their feet most of the party, Kurt thinks.

"Will you dance with me?" Blaine asks. Kurt is wary for a short moment, looking at everyone dancing. They will be the only same sex couple on the floor. But Kurt thinks screw it, this is his school now, with a zero tolerance bullying policy, and he is among friends who are throwing this party for him, for goodness sake. If he can't dance with a boy here, then where?

"I'd love to," he beams and gracefully gets up from the pillow on the floor. Blaine takes his hand, leading them to the makeshift dance floor.

"Is this the moment you tell me you actually can dance?" Kurt asks, half jokingly.

"I may or may not have worn out several pair of dancing shoes before I hit the teens, because that would be an important part of a correct upbringing of a young, fine man as myself," Blaine answers, and Kurt thinks he can spot some bitterness hidden in Blaine's sassy answer. "But," Blaine adds, "it also makes me a decent date for the Christmas ball, as I do all the classic ballroom dances, and can lead you in a killer waltz, if you want to."

Oh, Kurt thinks, is the Christmas ball a date? The butterfly colony in his tummy awakens, making Kurt stumble.

"Oh no, that won't do. I am a great dancer, but I can't save any kind of clutz," Blaine teases. "You have to learn how to walk before you dance," he says and winks.

"Excuse me, but did you or did you not watch me do _Single Ladies_ less than an hour ago?" Kurt asks cockily. That silences Blaine's laughter. Kurt grabs the lapel of Blaine's leather jacket and tugs him further to the dance floor while walking backwards.

"Oh my god, Blaine, look, I can walk!" he teases, making the boy laugh out loud. As they join the other dancing couples, _Jailhouse Rocks_ fills the room. Blaine almost squeals from joy, and steals the hat Kurt is wearing to put on his own head. He then twirls and leads Kurt in an enjoyable swing dance. Kurt doesn't know the steps, but it's easy to follow Blaine in what he assumes is a simplified version of the dance. It's thrilling to be spun around, completely losing control and putting all his trust in Blaine's hands.

They continue their dance through several hits from the 1950, including _Hound Dog_, _Shake Shuttle and Roll_, _Summertime blues_, _Tutti Frutti_ and _Rock around the Clock_. Sometimes Blaine stops them to teach Kurt some steps, and as song by song sound from the jukebox, their dance slowly but increasingly becomes more complicated. Kurt is wearing a wide grin, mirrored by Blaine.

The boys have been dancing for a while, when Blaine takes a firm hold on Kurt's tie, yanking him with him.

"I need something cold to drink," he explains as he sees Kurt disapproving face.

"And that makes me your puppy on a chain?"

"Oh yes, you are cute, I want to keep you, and don't want to risk anyone else snatching you," he says, giving Kurt his best pleading look.

"And yet you are the one with the puppy eyes," Kurt sighs good-naturedly as Blaine hands him a can of coke from the refrigerator who had appeared while Kurt got changed.

"Diet coke isn't invented in the 1950s, so you have to settle with the regular stuff today."

Blaine shrugs off his leather jacket, folding it neatly over a chair. It's getting warm in the room, with all the people dancing, talking and partying.

Kurt scans the snack table, and is impressed by the selection. Even though he doesn't recognize everything or know the history of food in the 1950s, he has no doubt this is thoroughly researched. The vintage and retro looking packages peaks his curiosity, and he randomly chooses one.

"So a little birdie whispered you are the party planner? In that case I don't know how to say thank you, because this is the best surprise I've ever had."

Blaine blushes. "I haven't done it alone, Mercedes helped me a lot – she made sure everyone from the New Directions came, in proper outfits, and she let me kick around some of my ideas with her as she knows you better."

"But they were still your ideas. Out of curiosity – why a 1950s theme?"

"It's a decade I feel is often neglected; a lot of the music produced in the later decades are more popular. But there are a lot of great hits for the future from the 1950s as well. I just hoped it would suit you, even though I considered a Lady Gaga-party as well."

Kurt laughs, thinking about the costumes they wore at school when doing Lady Gaga.

"Blaine, you should know by now my music taste is quite eclectic, it's not just Broadway or Gaga. I love this party. I know it's the Warblers welcoming me, but honestly you have made this transfer painless and smooth. I owe you so much."

"Good. Then you'll dance with me again," Blaine says, pulling Kurt by the tie again. Kurt stumbles at the sudden yank, and braces his arms on Blaine's chest to regain his balance.

"What did I say about clutz?" Blaine asks mockingly.

Kurt puts his foot right behind Blaine's, and since the boy is walking backwards he doesn't see it and trip, landing on his back.

"You were saying, Mr. Dance Teacher?"

Blaine jumps back up, shaking his head humorously, before indulging Kurt in a dance to _Great Balls of Fire_.

The song ebbs out, and a slow ballad sounds from the jukebox. Kurt and Blaine stops dancing, looking blushingly and hesitantly at each other. They had fun dancing the swing and upbeat moves, but both feel this is different.

Blaine holds out a hand.

"May I have this dance?" he asks softly. Kurt swallows, trying to shush the butterflies. He lays his hand in Blaine's, and closes the gap between them.

"Yes, yes you may."

Kurt doesn't know were to place the arm with the cast – they had managed to dance with only two hands linked earlier, but what do you do with a useless hand while slow dancing? He doesn't want to risk knocking Blaine out. Blaine silently takes hold of his elbow, gently guiding his arm around his waist, before placing his own hand on Kurt's shoulder. Without a word they have switched who leads, and Kurt is thrilled. He's no fan of stereotypes and set gender roles, and he doesn't want to be assumed positions or roles. He wants to lead and to be lead, in so many ways.

Blaine's thumb is playing with Kurt's suspender and the boy hums to the song. Kurt listens to the lyric as they float slowly around the floor. As they get more comfortable with the dance, they both relax and melt into each other. _I believe for every drop of rain that falls a flower grows. I believe that somewhere in the darkest night a candle glows. I believe for everyone who goes astray someone will come to show the way._ It's a beautiful thought, Kurt thinks. It's easy to believe within the safety of the thick brick walls of Dalton. He is sneaking glances at Blaine, enthralled by the boy's glowing face. He's so grateful for this boy, and doesn't know what he'd do without him. He won't tell Mercedes, but he is pretty sure Blaine is his best friend. They know so much about each other, understand each other in so many ways, and they have this great chemistry. OK, so he has a big fat crush on his best friend, but Blaine _is_ his best friend, nothing can deny that.

An upbeat song replaces the ballads that have been playing, and Nick and Jeff bounce to the two boys, claiming they want to dance with them. Jeff sweeps off with Blaine, and Nick replaces Blaine's position.

"Nick, _Peggy Sue_ is not something we can slow dance to."

"Says who?"

"Says rhythm and beat."

"Shush, be a rebel, slow dance with me," Nick says, placing both of Kurt's arms around his waist, clinging to his neck. Kurt can only laugh from the ridicule. It doesn't feel like the tender and intimate moment when he danced with Blaine at all.

"How are you doing, Kurt?"

"I'm doing fine, I got this amazing party thrown in my honor."

"Not so upset about Blaine anymore, are you?"

Kurt thinks about their conversation yesterday – had it only been yesterday he thought Blaine was busy with some mystery guy?

"I guess I understand why he was so busy, and I must say I feel more cherished than ignored at the moment," he says a bit snarky, because he is also getting a bit nervous talking about this with Nick. "And you guys knew all the time, didn't you?"

"We sure did. You know the two of you are cute when you dance, right? You keep stealing glances, never looking at each other at the same time. Adorable. And annoying. You are perfect for each other."

Kurt blushes at Nick straightforwardness and compliment.

"Is it weird to say I'm scared of this? I've never done this before, I don't know what to do, I'm afraid of doing something wrong, I'm afraid of misreading and misunderstanding him, I'm afraid of losing my best friend, and the butterflies are overwhelming me," Kurt quickly whispers in Nicks ear.

Nick pecks him on the forehead. "You silly boy, stop overthinking and analyzing everything."

Kurt sighs. "You're basically asking me to change personality."

Nick chuckles, but is interrupted by Wes. "It's my turn to dance with the new kid now."

After a couple of minutes David cuts in. Kurt expects him to want to dance with Wes, as they are involved in an epic bromance, but David wants to dance with Kurt. That's the pace for the next hour. Kurt is being spun and twirled by every single member of the Warblers and New Directions, or spinning and twirling them, everybody cutting in to get a piece of him. Sean apologizes for his question, which Kurt had forgotten all about and can't be bothered. Kurt radiates happiness; it's the best party ever.

A sharp whistling from Santana gets the attention from everybody, whether they are dancing, chatting in the couches or lounging around the snack table.

"Truth or dare!" she exclaims.

Everyone stumbles eagerly back to the couches and pillows, getting comfortable for some humiliation. Kurt had been dancing with his brother when Santana interrupted, and they get seated next to each other. It's nice to spend some time with Finn again, and he is now updated on his father and Carole from another perspective than that of said persons.

They haven't got any bottles at the party, just cups and cans, so Santana snatches the gavel as a substitute spinner. It lands on Kurt.

"You have already answered way too many questions, so you are only allowed to choose 'dare' for tonight," she states. Kurt tries to protest, but as many of the singers in the party agree, he finds himself outnumbered.

"OK, fine, whatever, dare," he says with a shrug.

"Do the _Single Ladies_-song again," Santana says.

"How is that even a dare?" Kurt starts, but interrupts himself, he isn't about to let Santana get her wicked mind in action to find alternatives. He looks over at Brittany and Tina, who are already standing, ready to back him up.

Kurt may not understand why he is told to do this, but Santana had seen Blaine watch the first performance with his back ramrod straight, jaw on his knees, a blush going down his neck and a distant look in his eyes. Santana figures Blaine maybe needs a reminder of how hot Kurt looked, and who is she to deny someone something hot? Santana is such a _saint_, after all. She smirks as she watches Blaine during the performance. Consider this an early Christmas gift, Hobbit, she thinks.

As Kurt gets back to his pillow, he spins the gavel. It lands on Nick, who chooses dare, and Kurt dare him to keep his hands off of Jeff for the next half hour. After 20 minutes, Nick busts as he just has to lean his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, and the entire room tease him, but he just laughs at his friends.

In the meantime the gavel has been spun around, and several boys and girls have answered truthfully or obliged their dares. The gavel has just landed on Blaine, and Kurt should have warned him about both Puck and Santana, but Blaine chooses dare, and Puck tells him to give Wes a lapdance.

Blaine gets up without a word and heads for his good friend. He begins a slow dance using all his body and joints to move in front of Wes, who happens to sit almost opposite of Kurt, giving him _the_ view. The two boys have been dancing a lot together this evening, but Kurt has mostly seen his friend's face. Now he gets to see him from another… _perspective_. Kurt most definitely isn't ogling his best friend, it's not his fault Blaine's entire behind is right in front of him. Kurt likes to think he isn't shallow, and he knows for certain he never thinks about sex, but a heat coils in his tummy. Kurt tries to fight off a blush, because the view is quite pleasurable. The muscles on Blaine's back flexes under the thin t-shirt as he wraps his arms around Wes' neck, and those tight pants doesn't leave much for the imagination. Kurt's breathe hitches, and he feels too warm at the moment. Then Blaine turns around, hands leaning behind him on Wes' thighs, and he's almost grinding his ass in Wes' lap. Wes has wrapped his arms around Blaine, playfully tickling his chest and stomach. Kurt's eyes are fixed on said body, that t-shirt is a sin to wear. Then Blaine jumps up, going back to his place.

"That was it?" Puck asks annoyed, the whole thing hadn't lasted more than maybe 45 seconds.

"Premature ejaculation, what can I say? My job was done," Blaine says airily, making the room erupt in laughter and whistling, drowning out a flustered Wes who tries to explain his endurance is quite fine, thank you very much. Kurt is one of the few not laughing, he's dumbstruck. He never thought he would find himself in a party during high school, where two boys had pretended to do a lapdance, joking about orgasms and not one single person reacting negatively. From the corner of his eyes he can see his brother blushing, but he thinks it has more to do with the premature ejaculation-joke. Kurt remembers how the boys had been imagining running over the postman or picturing coach Beiste in sexy lingerie to cool down while making out with their girls.

Most of the party participants are feeling playful tonight, so there are a lot of dares. Even though everyone's sober – even Puck - they are having a blast. Things are quite PG-rated, with the obvious exception of Puck and Santana. After a while they've seen Mike dance through an entire song solely on his hands (with Tina swooning over his arms and abs), Rachel has – extremely blushingly – knocked on random dorms asking to borrow a condom until she got one (with most of the party people peeking around the corner, of course, and she only had to knock on three doors), Thad had to put on make-up provided from the girls' purses, Blaine had been dared by Santana to give them a thorough demonstration on how to put on a condom with the one Rachel had gotten (he had used a suitable candle, and Kurt recognized his show face throughout his performance, clearly Blaine felt uncomfortable with the situation), and as payback Kurt dared Santana to demonstrate a proper blowjob with one of the bananas from yesterday's class of sexual education who happened to be laying around. Santana had happily obliged.

The spinning gavel has stopped on Kurt this time.

"As the last dare tonight," Jeff begins, "I dare you to hide this gavel so Wes cannot use it during the weekend."

Kurt gets up laughingly, grabs the gavel, and runs out of the room while David and Trent have to hold back Wes. Kurt knows exactly where to hide it, but takes his time in hope of confusing Wes. He's near the entrance door, and decides to step outside for a couple of minutes. The fresh air will be a nice change from the crowded Warblers' room. As he opens the door, he holds his breath at the sight of the beautiful scene. It's been snowing without them noticing, and a thin layer of white powder has covered the grounds. Kurt gently takes three steps from the entrance, twists his body backwards without moving his feet, and a childish squeak escapes his lips as he watches the traces his feet have made in the snow. He takes a couple of more steps, before stretching out his hands and leaning his head backwards, enjoying the cold snow landing in his face, in his hair, on his arms. This is bliss.

When Kurt wants to get inside again, he realizes the door is locked. It's always open, but Kurt has never tried to enter the building this late, so he guesses it's some night time security. It's way past curfew, but he knows the Council got an exception from the administration because of the party, or mostly because of the rehearsal weekend. His keys are in his uniform pants, back in the dorm. Luckily he has his phone, so he sends a quick SOS to Blaine.

Shortly after, Blaine comes running and unlocks the door, but Kurt refuses to go back in immediately.

"Look at all the untouched snow. It's so beautiful. Tomorrow morning it will either have melted, or there will be footsteps everywhere, scarring it."

Blaine joins him, watching the pure snow and the bright full moon. Kurt shivers next to him, only wearing his thin shirt.

"You must be cold; how long have you been standing outside? Here," Blaine says and shoulders Kurt gently to get the boy's attention as he presents his leather jacket for him. Luckily the sleeves are quite wide, so he manages to pull it over the cast.

"And now you'll get cold, let's go back," Kurt says, and without thinking about it grabs Blaine's hand. They walk in comfortable silence back to the Warblers' room. It isn't the first time they hold hands, but Blaine has always been the tactile one and Kurt the hesitant one, still not feeling quite comfortable and safe, still waiting for the bubble to explode after everything he had to endure at McKinley. It isn't often Kurt initiate anything like this. Their hands separate before they enter the party, though.

"Oh God," Wes burst out when he sees the snow in the boys' hair. "Did you hide the gavel _outside_?"

Kurt just smirks, grabs a stick with pink cotton candy, and gets comfortable in the couch. The circle has dissolved while he was outside, and the dance floor is again vibrant. The jukebox has been replaced by someone's iPod shuffling through a random playlist, and Kurt smiles when he sees Santana and Brittany dancing together. Quite a few of the Warblers are ogling them, but Kurt hopes they don't stand a chance and that the girls have figured out things.

Mercedes is pulling at imaginative lapels and mouths something at Kurt while winking. Kurt knows she's trying to comment him wearing Blaine's jacket, but he pretends he doesn't understand her, waves cheerfully, and continues to talk with Blaine sitting next to him. His friend has just ripped off a big pink bite of the candy.

"You should know, Blaine, me eating this colored, fluffy sugar is really a humongous compliment to your party planning skills. I normally wouldn't eat this stuff, it goes straight to my hips, but I'm too happy and relaxed to care."

Blaine chuckles.

"So getting you relaxed is the secret weapon to make you do whatever I want?"

"Oh no, mister, that is not what I said."

"We'll just have to see, then. I know I'll be thinking out new ways to make you relaxed, you seems funny to experiment with," he says teasingly. "But for the record – I'm glad you enjoy the party."

"And you brought New Directions here," Kurt says hoarsely, convincing his mind to think about anything else than Blaine _experimenting_ with him. "It's been so nice to see every single one of them again."

"I know you miss them, and you've seemed a bit down, so I asked the Council if we could alter the traditions a bit. You wouldn't believe what I can achieve if I mention inviting six girls to this joint," Blaine laughs.

"I've never seen the appeal," Kurt mumbles, but fondly, because they are first and foremost _his_ girls.

"Me neither. Me neither," he says softly, locking eyes with Kurt.

Eventually it's about time to end the party. The Warblers all approach Kurt to officially welcome him among their ranks; some of them offer handshakes, pats on the back or even a quick hug from those he's spoken most with. He gathers his girls to continue their party in his room, when he comes to think about the boys. Where will they be sleeping? It turns out the five boys had been planning to drive back to Lima the same night, but Kurt objects, using the snow, the dark and the late hours as his arguments. After some quick planning and texting, five sleeping bags are provided in the Warblers' practice room, so the boys can spend the night. They all agree on a time to meet for breakfast the next morning, before Kurt and the girls head back to his room. Kurt isn't quite sure how seven people can sleep in his room, but at least his room is tidy and hopefully there is enough free space on the floor. They bring some of the big pillows from the party with them.

Kurt is in the bathroom brushing his teeth, thinking about how to get out of his clothes again, he's never felt comfortable changing in front of anyone after all the incidents in and around the wardrobes at school. A hesitant knock on the door wakes Kurt from his thoughts. He unlocks and opens the door slightly, not surprisingly finding Blaine on the other side.

"Hey, do you need any help?"

Kurt had decided to ask Mercedes to help him, but what the heck, at least he is used to Blaine doing this.

"Yeah, that would be great, if you don't mind."

"Have I ever refused to help you?"

And he hasn't. Even when Blaine was distant and occupied, he still helped him – and now that Kurt knows he was busy planning a party for _him_, he can't exactly be mad for being somewhat ignored.

Blaine joins Kurt in the bathroom, placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders under the jacket. It's such a warm touch, but still a cold shiver runs up Kurt's spine leaving goose bumps in its trail. Blaine gently shoves the jacket down from his shoulders and arms. It tugs at the cast, and Blaine carefully wraps his fingers around Kurt's wrist while pulling off the jacket, paying attention to not hurt his arm. He then begins unbuttoning Kurt's shirt, pulling it out of his pants.

"I… Umm… I'm not wearing anything under this," Kurt says gesturing at his shirt.

"Oh, umm, I'll try to look somewhere else," Blaine answers, a profound blush on his cheeks. He apparently decides it's better to stare at Kurt's face instead, and wasn't that the worst idea ever, Kurt can't take this. His eyes are so warm, so kind, so caring, and it's too much. Kurt feels his legs tremble, and he stumbles backwards to lean onto the wall.

"Sorry, I…" he says, waving his hand to nothing in particular.

"Sssshh, relax, it's OK, it's just me," Blaine says, caressing a finger over his cheek. It's silly, because there's no such thing as "just" when Blaine is standing so close, but his voice is soothing, and Kurt thinks he'll at least be able to stand on his feet.

"I'm self conscious, I guess…" Kurt mumbles, studying his toes intently.

"Hey," Blaine whispers, cupping his chin and gently lifting his head. "Do you want me to stop? I don't want to push you, Kurt. I'll only do it if you trust me and are comfortable."

"God Blaine, it sounds like we're about to have sex." The words are out of his mouth before he can adjust his filter, and Kurt stiffens for a moment, until he realizes Blaine is laughing silently.

"Oh my God Kurt, you're right, I hope your girlfriends aren't eavesdropping at the door. And I hope the first time won't be in a bathroom, six girls waiting on one side of the wall, and a bunch of Warblers high on sugar running around the hallways on the other side."

Both boys try to muffle their laughter in their friend's shoulder.

As the laughter ebbs out, Blaine quickly undoes the rest of the buttons, and twirls Kurt out of his shirt. Before Kurt has time to realize he's half naked in front of his crush, Blaine whispers a "sweet dreams" in his ear, quickly pecks his cheek and disappears from the room. Kurt feels like a silly teenage girl when his hand carefully touches where Blaine's lips met his skin.

Safely tucked in pyjama pants, a t-shirt and a hoodie, Kurt joins the girls in his room. Four of the girls have already changed, but Quinn skips into the bathroom when Kurt steps out.

"She's probably conscious about stretch marks and saggy babymilk-boobs," Santana says with a neutral voice. Kurt can relate. When Quinn comes back, Rachel pops off, explaining how she will not be one of the actresses known for her naked body, and she wants to be appreciated for her talent, so she is saving herself in every way possible for her one true love.

The five girls and Kurt have settled down with sleeping bags/blankets/covers and the big pillows on the floor, starting their hushed conversation, as one Miss Berry screams from the bathroom. They all bolt up, but Kurt is the first to open the door. Behind it he sees a petrified Rachel covering her clothed boobs with her hands over the dress she's been wearing at the party, and a slightly amused Blaine in the other doorway.

"Rachel," Kurt says patiently, "you know I share a bathroom with Blaine. You have to lock both doors."

"Why can't his door stay locked, so we don't have to be traumatized like this?" Rachel yells.

There's a collective roll of eyes from one Kurt and five girls.

"And how would he be able to use his own bathroom then?"

"If you would please excuse me, I need to lock _two_ doors to get some privacy," Rachel says dramatically, not answering Kurt's question.

"_I'm sorry",_ Kurt mouths to Blaine, who only chuckles, shakes his head and waves goodbye.

As they go back to their cozy arrangements on the floor, Kurt grabs his phone to set the alarm. He notices he has received one new text, from Blaine.

_For what it's worth, your body is beautiful._

* * *

**AN: Lyrics are from _I Believe_ by Frankie Laine._  
_**


	12. Footloose

**AN: So, I have been thinking lately that my summary for this story is kind of generic and boring, so if anyone has a suggestion to a better and more intriguing summary - feel free to suggest! I've never been good at those things...**

**Thank you to everyone reading, and to the new readers finding my story and alerting to it - I really appreciate it. Reviews warm my heart as well, it's so good to feel appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

The girls and Kurt had been chatting excitedly until the early morning hours, and when all the girls around Kurt had fallen asleep, he had still been awake, thinking about the party, the last text and Blaine. He had been truthful with Nick, he is scared about this. Being around Blaine is easy, talking with Blaine is easy, light flirting is also kind of easy, even though he thinks his stomach will burst from all the butterflies sometimes.

What scares Kurt, is the next step. How does he know if there's reason to hope for more? How does he know if Blaine really is flirting with him, or if it just silly, gentle, friendly Blaine being more touchy-feely than Kurt is used to from his other mates? How does he know he isn't misunderstanding anything? And how does he know what to do? He doesn't want to just blurt out his feelings for the other, making a big ass of himself. Kurt is anything but strong and confident in this, and he hopes Blaine will lead him through the maze, if there's something to be lead to. The way Blaine looks at him, touches him, caresses him, acts around him – it has to be something, right?

Kurt sighs, it's so typical of him to fall hard for a boy and usually it ends with a crash landing. He gets his silly naïve hopes up so, so high, and he does have a history of spinning his own reality based on hopes and longing. With all of his lack of experience, how can he honestly be sure how he feels himself? Is it just a crush on a boy who happens to shower him with some long yearned attention? Is he confusing a great friendship with romance?

Kurt decides to have patience and take things slow. It's not much more than a month since they first met as his cover as a spy was busted, and he's only been at Dalton for one and a half week. It's still so much to learn about the boy, they still have so much to discover about each other. Yes, they bonded almost immediately, but they still manage to surprise each other. Maybe Kurt should try to just enjoy the ride for now, and avoid making any waves that can ruin their friendship. Yes, that seems wise.

Finally Kurt falls asleep tucked between Mercedes and Tina in his bed, while dreaming about dancing with Blaine.

Almost four hours later, his alarm buzzes. It's still two hours until the Warblers' intense weekend of rehearsal begins, but Kurt figured it isn't more time than necessary if he and six girls need to use the bathroom and eat breakfast before noon.

Kurt climbs over Tina to get quicker out of bed as someone knocks on the door.

"Blaine? What are you doing here? You always enter through the bathroom."

"Good morning to you too," Blaine teases, and returns Kurt's hat from yesterday by putting it on the boy's head. "I didn't want to risk _traumatizing_ your friends, so I thought I should use the regulated entrance," Blaine grins, waving to Rachel who has appeared behind Kurt.

"How generous of you. Is my bed head that terrible?" Kurt teases back, and removes the hat.

"I have seen you more gathered, I have to admit, even straight from bed."

"And how would your head look after spending a night with two girls in bed?"

"I honestly don't know. You see, Kurt… I… I'm gay." Blaine looks at Kurt with such big, serene eyes; it challenges Kurt's entire acting abilities. Kurt manages to let out a dirty laugh.

"Well, well, neighbour, I guess that means I get to enjoy these lovely ladies all by myself," he winks to Blaine.

"Oh, you know it. You and your foxy femmes have the bath for yourself for the next hour, I'm headed out for a jog. But please leave some hot water for a quick shower when I come back."

"Can this school run out of hot water?"

"I don't know," Blaine chuckles, "but I guess six girls could be a worthy challenge."

Blaine waves and disappears, and Kurt turns around to face his friends.

"Ladies, you heard the man, the bath is safe to enter for the next hour. We're meeting the boys for breakfast in an hour as well, so hurry, hurry!"

As the girls get out of their sleeping bags, stumble into the bath and try to get awake, Kurt has a revelation. Shouldn't it be weird seeing Blaine after the text he got last night? Neither had acknowledged it, but they had jumped right into their normal teasing banter. They could have the best discussions, or they could open up to each other and have deep, meaningful conversations. But they could also just have fun with jokes and light chat. There never was any awkward silence between them, this morning not ending up as an exception. The revelation makes Kurt feel warm all over. Blaine as a friend, that's a true keeper.

The Council had let the Warblers know they would mainly be practicing the dance routines today, so they were for once allowed out of uniforms. Kurt puts on some loose yoga pants, leg warmers drawn up to his knees under the pants, a t-shirt, a long sleeved jumper, and a hoodie. The layers will make it easier to regulate the temperature when he's standing still and when he's dancing. He also prepares a bag with necessities; dancing shoes, towel, extra t-shirt, deodorant, hairspray, a couple of water bottles from the fridge in Blaine's room, his iPod, the music sheets, a couple of energy bars and some fruit.

Kurt gathers his discarded uniform from yesterday to throw in the laundry bin while the girls finish up in the bathroom. Out of habit he checks the pockets, to prevent washing anything else than clothes. In one of the pockets on the blazer, he finds a slightly crumbled note. Curious, he unfolds it, only to see a name written on it. Oh, that's right, Kurt remembers, we're doing Secret Santa. Better plan out something nice to do for him, then.

They are somewhat delayed, but eventually all six girls and Kurt are ready, and they run off to catch up with the boys for breakfast.

* * *

In the dining hall, two thirds of the Council are eating breakfast, finishing the last preparations for the rehearsal weekend, and plotting their strategies.

"We are geniuses," Wes says.

"I told you, you have pretty ideas!" David responds. "And you are sure Blaine got the right note?"

"Yes, Kurt's name was written on slightly thicker paper, so it wasn't difficult to keep the note from the other notes. Blaine is now Kurt's Secret Santa, and by Christmas they have hopefully gotten their shit together. Because we made Blaine realize his rainbows are grey until he takes Kurt for a ride on his flying carpet."

"Excellent, sire!"

With a nod each, they link arms, leaving the room on marching feet, their free hands twirling their invisible walking sticks.

Hardly anyone sitting in the dining hall reacts when Wes five seconds later screams in agony – they are used to the boys' antics.

"My gavel!" is heard echoing the old brick walls, and frantic feet run off.

Shortly after, the New Direction-members and their ex-member are gathered at a long table, munching on their breakfast and chatting excitedly. Apparently, the boys had been up for a long time as well, so the sleep deprived singers are currently in an everything-is-funny-let's-laugh-out-loud-at-anything-phase.

After finding out this is their big rehearsal weekend, Rachel tries to plan ways to spy on the Warblers.

"You said you weren't here to spy," Kurt accuses her.

"That was yesterday, during the party. New day, new cards, new rules," she states. Kurt rolls his eyes, and Quinn and Tina promise to make sure Rachel comes back to Lima with them.

"So Kurt…" Mercedes starts, giving him that knowing look he recognizes all too well.

"Yes?"

"You and Blaine seem to be close. Cute and close," she says, wiggling her eyebrows. At the mention of his friend's name, the entire table has silenced, and is paying attention to their conversation.

"Yes, Blaine has been a wonderful friend and made the transfer much easier," he says, mentally accepting an Oscar for his innocent tone of voice.

"Uh huh, friend," Santana snarls, winking at him.

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief. He actually thought they hadn't busted him on that one.

"I'm allowed to make new friends," he says, clutching at his imaginary Oscar.

"Kurt, you're allowed to fall in love as well," Mercedes says softly, quickly squeezing his thigh.

"He's cute," Quinn states. Santana looks at her with a shocked expression.

"Girl, cute is for puppies and Beth – that boy is smoking!"

"Oh Kurt, you don't want to kiss a smoking dolphin, they taste and smell yucky, and he won't be able to swim with you for as long as you want to," Brittany worries, leaning over the table to hug Kurt.

"I would warn you against dating such a prominent singer, as great talents tend to clash if forced to interact too closely, but maybe you could provide us with inside information," Rachel says, apparently deep in thought.

Kurt sighs.

"Rachel, although I still love and miss you, I would never be a traitor and reveal anything you can use against us. I'm a Warbler now."

"So you don't deny dating him," Mercedes adds smugly.

Kurt huffs, rolls his eyes, and bids his Oscar farewell while muttering "We're not dating".

"But they treat you right, though?" Puck asks. Finn looks up from his food and smiles at Kurt at that. They had a really nice heart to heart last night while dancing, and Kurt had been able to make his brother relax and confident in knowing Kurt had a good time at school, got new friends and hadn't experienced any bullying so far.

"Yeah, they really do," Kurt answers, receiving an approving nod from Puck.

"Good. So are you getting some, then?"

Kurt chokes on his water. Artie high fives Puck.

"No," Kurt coughs, "I'm not _getting _some," he continues annoyed.

"Oh…" Puck says, looking a bit disappointed, except for a twinkle in his eyes. "So you're topping, then."

There's a loud thud as Kurt's head hits the table, repeatedly.

"Hey, Puck, that's my brother, and yeah, limits, ok?"

There's loud laughter around the table, and Kurt is desperately thinking about something else to say to move the conversation on and away from the topic of _Blaine_.

"Guys, calm down," Sam interferes. The laughter ebbs out. "Who can blame Kurt for falling in love among all the hot guys here?"

Kurt just stares at him with narrow eyes, while his gaydar slightly pulsates.

"Yeah, and Blaine seems to be an outstanding classical dancer, so no objections from me," Mike pipes in.

"OK guys, this is officially weird. Now shush. I'm neither _dating_ nor _sleeping_ _with_ anyone, and you are all so far off. Two gay guys can stay friends, you know."

"Yeah, but can you?" Mercedes asks smugly.

"Well, look at the time, you should be headed back home and I need to get ready for Warblers. Thank you for coming, I had fun yesterday, too bad your images of being nice didn't survive the night." Kurt may be rambling, but his 11 friends get up from the table and bid their goodbyes. Everybody promise to stay in touch, and they will without doubt meet up during winter break, if not sooner.

Kurt skips into the choir room with two minutes to spare, and he's impressed by the transformation. There are hardly any traces of the party held there yesterday, except for the jukebox and the big viewing screen in the corner. The couches and chairs are moved to the sides of the room to make an even bigger dance floor.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please settle down!" Wes yells over the general commotion in the room, making several of the boys snicker at the lack of gavel.

"I call order in the room!" Wes continues, still not in charge of the surprisingly morning frisky boys. Sharp whistling silences the room, though, and everyone look at the source – Blaine.

"Guys, do you mind?"

Kurt thinks it's like magic to watch how the room instantly calms down after four gentle words from their lead singer.

"Thank you, Warbler Blaine," David says, and the Council charge in a painstakingly prepared and well planned speech about how important Sectionals is, and how confident they are in the Warblers' chances of winning, but there will be hell to pay if anyone slacks off during this rehearsal weekend. Polite hell, of course, but hell never the less.

The choreography is presented for the entire gang, and the boys start practicing it while listening to their own rough version of the songs recorded earlier that week. The next day the songs will be polished to perfection, but for now they focus on the dance moves and steps. Kurt glances over at Blaine's position in front of them, and is amused. From the corner of the eyes he can see the lead singer lip sync to his own recording.

The choreography for _Victorious_ is thrilling. It is highlighting Kurt as the soloist, but it's so much more than just standing in the front of back up-singers. The dance is like a synergy, they float and flow together, and Kurt is metaphorically being carried gently around the stage by his team. During the last chorus, everybody else folds down in a crouching position, leaving Kurt standing tall and… victorious. They are around him, supporting him, but it's his show. Still, it isn't an ego trip, because they all depend on each other. The other Warblers are making him stronger and better, they are highlighting and underlining him, and they make sure to push the number forward. Kurt is ecstatic and thrilled, giddy with excitement and joy, and he actually missteps a couple of times as he bounces energetically. He shoots the Council an apologetic glance, while dancing on. He hopes this day will never end, because this freaking rocks!

Three hours later, everything hurts. His feet hurt, his head hurts, his hips hurt, his arms hurt, and his stupid show smile hurts the most. Kurt is exhausted. Most of the guys have been complaining for a while, threatening with mutiny, and demanding a break. But Wes is whipping them on, claiming the competition will feel so easy if they can manage to do the numbers when they are more or less dead on their feet. How suitable they are working with _Misery_ at the moment. Wes is primary hate object number one, Kurt thinks. When Nick and Jeff stumble and trip, falling on each other, David finally gives in, giving them half an hour to rest. Kurt slumps down on the floor from where he was standing.

"Wes and Rachel should not be allowed to have kids," Kurt says out loud to no one in particular.

"Oookeeey… Good to know?" Blaine answers amused, stretching his legs not far from where Kurt is sprawled.

"It would be the spawn of the show choir devil."

Blaine chuckles at Kurt's explanation, Kurt has told him enough about his old friends to get the gist.

Kurt watches him through half closed eyes, simply noticing how the muscles of his _friend_ is tensing, stretching, moving and bulging. His thighs, his legs, his back, his arms, his stomach, his everything. Kurt swallows, hard.

"Come on, you'll get all stiff if you continue that," Blaine says, giving Kurt a hand. Kurt blushes profoundly, had he been caught ogling Blaine?

"Your muscles will hate you if you go all still and cold after so much exercise. Try to move a bit and put on some more clothes, at least," Blaine suggests, still standing with his hand outstretched for Kurt.

Kurt takes the hand, letting Blaine pull him up from the floor, and puts on the hoodie he discharged earlier.

"You have to mooooove!" Blaine squeals, yanking Kurt after him in a jog around the room. Kurt tries to hold him back or get out of Blaine's tight grip around his wrists.

"Come on, Kurt, two laps, and then I'll let you collapse."

Kurt still halfheartedly fights off Blaine, whining immaturely.

"I'm not able to moooove!" he pouts.

"Oh _baby_," Blaine says mockingly, and Kurt hates being called a baby. He loves nick names and terms of endearment, but 'baby' is just condescending. He knows Blaine knows, it's actually one of the weird but still not uncomfortable topics they've discussed earlier.

"Your body will hate you if you don't do these two laps. Don't be mean to your body, it's nice to you. I'll even reward you with a surprise. And I know you have loved all my surprises so far," Blaine says, winking cockily at Kurt.

"Don't call me baby!" Kurt hisses, but blushing fiercely, thinking about the text he got last night. Blaine shouldn't be talking so much about Kurt's body if he wants him to stay sane. Still, his curiosity has been awakened, and he joins Blaine for the two laps around the room. Of course Kurt knows all about warming up and cooling down – he has after all been both a cheerleader and a football player, not to mention an active dancer in New Direction. But these hours in Wes' regime has been killing him slowly. Kurt's beginning to think the warning from Nick and Jeff had been fair.

Two laps later, the two boys stop their jogging, and Kurt sits down on the floor by the wall. He bends his torso against his toes to stretch, while Blaine goes to find his promised surprise. Kurt doesn't stop stretching until he hears another body slump down by his side.

"Surprise," Blaine whispers, handing him a cup. The scent hits Kurt's nostrils immediately, and he could purr from pleasure.

"Oh precious coffee, where have you been all day?" he worships the cup, before taking a careful sip of the hot liquid.

Blaine pours himself another cup from the thermos as he chuckles.

"I take it you like this surprise as well?"

"God yes, why didn't I think about this? I only brought water," he replies, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity. Surviving an entire day without coffee, what was he thinking?

"At least you won't be dehydrated," Blaine shrugs.

The boys sit in silence, enjoying their coffee, making it last as long as possible. Kurt can almost feel his body soften and his brain waking up. Miracle fluid.

Kurt feels Blaine's eyes on him, and looks up from his cup, question marks in his pupils.

"I just wanted to say I think you're doing great. You're a part of us now."

Kurt blushes, again, and seriously, when will he ever stop blushing in front of this boy?

"Thank you."

Blaine simply bumps his shoulder, smiling at him.

After thirty minutes and not a second more, the Council gathers their song birds for further practice, promising them a longer break in ninety minutes.

"OK guys, you are doing fairly well, but I don't want you to only know the choreography from the top. We'll start the numbers at random places, and you get in proper formation and continue the dance routine from that place. Got it?"

Even dapper prep school boys can grunt and protest, but they still do as the almighty Council requests.

Precisely ninety minutes later, the boys are off the hook. Kurt is dizzy, his legs trembling, his eyes itchingly dry, he's sweaty and nasty, and he's thinking about joining the army to get a proper vacation. He quickly grabs his bag, and heads for the men's room to freshen up.

After washing himself in the sink, changing the t-shirt, putting on new deodorant and putting in an effort to save his hair, he rejoins the Warblers in their room. In the meantime, pizza has arrived, and the boys are spread out on the floor, sitting in groups around the pizza boxes. Blaine waves Kurt over to where he's sitting with Wes, David, Nick and Jeff.

Kurt slides down against the wall, next to Blaine. The boys sit close to each other in a circle around the cardboard box. Kurt helps himself to a slice of pizza and a napkin, after retrieving a bottle of water from his bag.

Blaine talks eagerly and animatedly with the other guys while Kurt eats. They are discussing the possibility to use something else than uniforms on stage, means of transportation and other practical issues. Blaine is almost bouncing, radiating energy and passion.

Kurt, on the other hand, feels exhausted, and is leaning his head against the wall, closing his eyes to give them some rest as well.

"How can you still be so perky and awake?" Kurt asks, honestly curious. "You even went jogging this morning. Why are you not human?"

"I guess I'm just excited," Blaine smiles, and Kurt can sense the smile radiate from Blaine's entire body even though he can't see him.

"Wait, you went jogging?" Wes interrupts. "But you only do that when…"

"Wes, I went jogging, that happens, stop looking shocked," Blaine cuts him off. Kurt's eyes snap open, curiosity taking over. Why was jogging a big deal?

Jeff elegantly moves the conversation in a different direction by asking about their competition for Sectionals. Wes and David rant about their strengths and weaknesses as Kurt finishes his pizza slice. He's so tired from the party, from the short amount of sleep and from all the dancing. It would be OK if he just closed his eyes for a little while longer to rest them, maybe for a minute or so, right? No one will notice if he rests them really fast? His eyelids shut down, and soon after his head is slung down awkwardly. He's gone before he can notice how Blaine wraps his arm around him, carefully pulling him closer. In his sleep, Kurt nestles his head against Blaine's chest.

"I take it you have been considering our conversation," Wes states.

Blaine gives him a confused look.

"Wes, we talk all the time, but not everything you say is actually worth pondering for a long time afterwards. Are you talking about a specific conversation?"

"I'm talking about you get your act together, and stop sending mixed signals – are you wooing or friend zoning that Mr. 007 Endearing you have in your arms?"

Blaine knows he's blushing to his waist. At least.

"He just looked so tired, and I get so protective of him, and it seemed like a good idea to let him know he has friends here to look after him. It's not that easy to be the new kid." Blaine looks at the sleeping boy, who has turned slightly more and nuzzled himself closer.

"We understand that," David says. "But you don't have to limit yourself to friendship, you know."

"I would like to _woo_ him," Blaine admits silently. "I mean, look at him – he's witty, kind, smart, snarky, intelligent, beautiful, ambitious, adorable, talented, a fighter and a dreamer," Blaine gushes, making the four boys around him snicker.

"Spoken as a true friend," Wes teases.

"I just don't want to mess this up; I don't even think he feels about me the way I feel for him."

Nick and Jeff share a few quick glances. It would be so easy to help the boys get together, but they both appreciate how Kurt had confided in them, and they don't want to ruin his trust. But they don't want to stay silent for too long either.

"Why don't you just take things slowly, and see what happens? You don't have to propose tonight. Make sure you get to know him even better, shower him with attention, but walk that extra mile to let him understand where you could be headed. You can simply thread the water; you don't have to drown yourself in it."

Blaine looks dumbstruck.

"When did you become so eloquent, Nick?"

Jeff starts defending his boyfriend agitatedly, but stops abruptly when Kurt stirs. The countertenor continues his sleep, though.

"So Blaine, jogging?" Wes asks instead.

"Can we perhaps talk about this some time he isn't right in front of you?" Blaine pleads, suddenly afraid Kurt might have heard anything from their talk.

"OK, but I won't let you brush it off, I will ask you again."

"You're not so authoritative without your gavel…"

At that, Wes jumps up from the floor and darts out of the room, determined to spend the rest of their break looking for the gavel Kurt had hidden the day before. He sends a quick text to David, with an order to let him know if Kurt talks in his sleep, so they can probe the answer out of him.

* * *

It's ten o' clock in the evening when the gavel-less Wes and the rest of the council finally dismisses the Warblers from dance practice. Kurt is confused by all the hustle and bustle around him, as the boys are unpacking various sleeping bags and pillows.

"Oh my God, you weren't kidding?" Kurt asks Nick and Jeff. "We really do sleep here?"

"Kurt, we never kid about the Council's antics," Jeff answers.

"The Council wants us to sleep her tonight, so they are guaranteed everyone meets on time tomorrow," Nick continues. "They know from experience how exhausted we are after such a long day, so they narrow all of our freedom for the entire weekend."

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief; this is more insane than the New Directions ever managed to be.

"You didn't bring your sleeping bag, did you?" Jeff asks.

"It's back home with my dad, I never thought I would need it in a freaking boarding school," Kurt huffs.

"Why don't you take mine? Nick and I can share," Jeff offers.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm quite sure we'll manage," Nick says coyly, making all three of them laugh.

The big viewing screen in the corner comes to life, and someone has put on a movie – _Fame_, to give the right inspiration and attitude, apparently.

Kurt grabs one of the couch pillows, and settles down with it and Jeff's sleeping bag in the back of the room. Because of how the couches and the piano are placed, the far off corner acts like a small secluded alcove. He's beyond exhausted and needs to catch up on his sleep; hopefully it'll be less noisy here. He can't see any of the boys from his position on the floor, so hopefully they can't see him either, and he'll be left alone – from the sound of it, some of the guys are not ready for sleep yet, and are singing loudly to the songs, throwing popcorn and having a blast. Kurt may be pinned as anti-social because of this, but honestly, he can't tonight.

"Do you mind if I join you?" a soft voice asks.

"Not at all, Blaine," he answers, and scoots closer to the wall to give his friend more space to navigate in.

"Thanks. This seems like a prime spot, and I'm dead tired and just want to fall asleep as quickly as possible. Oh, do you want a pair?" Blaine asks, showing Kurt the item he's wiggling into his own ears.

"Coffee _and_ earplugs? You're a life safer," Kurt murmurs gratefully, accepting the small bag from Blaine.

"I've been through this before," Blaine chuckles, shimmying further down into his sleeping bag, lying on his side with his face towards Kurt. "Sweet dreams, Kurt," he whispers, as his eyes fall shut.

"Sweet dreams, Blaine," he whispers back, but gets no response. Kurt can only imagine how few hours of sleep Blaine has gotten the last nights. Knowing him, he's been eagerly planning his party in early mornings and late evening, and he can't have slept many hours tonight either. And he was the one who had been sitting pinned against the wall while Kurt slept for more than an hour earlier. Kurt blushes at the thought, and burrows his face in the pillow to shut out the rest of the light. Sleep, now, please.


	13. Black mail

**AN: Thank you for all your nice reviews, and thank you to new and old readers who follow this story.**

**Next update might be some time away, as I've managed to hurt my arm, and it's fairly difficult to get any typing done. Kurt and I will have to work through it, him in cast and me with pain killers and strict orders to keep my arm passive.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

It's never pleasant to wake up with confusion clogging your mind. Kurt can't understand why he's been sleeping on a hard floor, in an unfamiliar sleeping bag. He can't recognize the ceiling either. By his feet is a big couch, and Kurt wonders briefly why he didn't sleep there instead of on the floor. From the corner of his eye he catches slight movement, and as he turns over on his side, he notices a person cradled in a bright purple sleeping bag close to him. Kurt is startled at first, but then he remembers Blaine joining him last night. That may also explain why Kurt can't hear any sounds. Kurt carefully removes the ear plugs he got from Blaine, but it turns out it wasn't many sounds in the room to listen to anyway.

The sun is shining in through the big windows in the room, and it's probably what woke up Kurt. He fumbles around to find his bag, where he last saw his phone. It's only 6:03, still too early to get up; still four hours until practice. He doesn't think he can fall asleep again, though; the room is too bright lit. Halfheartedly, Kurt scans the windows to look for curtains, but of course there are none. The windows are colored glass making intricate floral patterns. Curtains would be an interior crime on such beauty. It would be nice to sleep, though. Kurt wishes he had thought about bringing his eye mask, and makes a mental note to add it on his list for what to do different next time the Warblers do a practice weekend like this.

Kurt begins unzipping Jeff's sleeping bag, so he can get up and leave the room to do something more useful than missing curtains, like shower or breakfast. An arm landing heavily on his stomach interrupts his zipper fiddling, and he has to bite his tongue to prevent the startled scream that threatens to erupt from his throat.

"Iz'a nightynight, sleep s'more, h'ny," a tired voice mumbles behind Kurt, and the arm pulls him closer. Kurt tenses immediately.

"Blaine?" he whispers. No response. "Blaine!" he hisses again, trying to shout while whispering, not wanting to wake up anybody else. Blaine's ear plugs are too effective, and he doesn't respond. Kurt tries to get up, but the arm only tightens ever so slightly. Kurt could have pushed away the arm, but not with the right arm in a cast, and the left arm is in wrong position to be able to move Blaine. Kurt sighs. He may just as well stay, and enjoy the closeness for as long as it lasts. He'll have to face the embarrassment and awkwardness when Blaine wakes up and freaks out, but for now, he'll just soak up the warmth radiating from the big spoon.

Almost two hours later, a dozen cell phones explode in a cacophony of various songs and alarms. Kurt bolts up from the shock of hearing so many different sounds; it's a nightmare of noise. He quickly inserts the ear plugs back, to prevent some of the worst violence to his ear drums. Behind him, Blaine has also awoken, and he looks at Kurt with a confused look. Kurt is pretty sure his annoyance is clearly visible on his face.

"Welcome to the Warblers," Blaine says sheepishly, rolling his shoulders.

The arm he had tucked around Kurt had been catapulted away when Kurt shocked upright, so as far as Kurt knows, Blaine doesn't know they had been spooning for the last hours. He doesn't see any reason to bring it up. Kurt assumes Blaine talks and moves in his sleep, so no need to make a bigger number of it than that. He doesn't want to humiliate Blaine, by letting the boy know Kurt hadn't stopped him or prevented it, but in fact had let it happen and enjoyed it, even falling asleep again in his arms. He sighs, stretches his body, and appreciates how the room is filled with the sounds of boys waking up instead of the bleary phone alarms.

"How did you sleep?" Blaine asks.

Kurt turns around to face his friend.

"Umm, good, surprisingly good," Kurt answers blushingly, because the best sleep had been while wrapped up in his friend's arms. "I feel a bit beaten up, though, but I don't know if it's from the dancing or from sleeping here. I'm really looking forward to a hot shower to ease up some of the tense muscles, though."

"Good luck with that," Blaine snorts. Kurt's confused and narrow eyes prompt him to continue. "The Council forces us to sleep here, so we won't be late for practice. No one is allowed back to the dorms, and there are no showers in the men's rooms here."

"That's nonsense. I need a shower and a change of clothes."

"Wes will only tell you to have a shower after practice, as you'll probably sweat more during rehearsal. And he'll tell you to wear the same clothes as yesterday."

"What?" Kurt exclaims. "That is unbearable, these clothes are disgusting, I've danced in them and slept in them, and…"

"Hey, hey, hey," Blaine interrupts. "We're on the same page, and I wouldn't mind a shower either. But that's not how the Council sees it."

"Straight boys are filthy…" Kurt mutters, making Blaine laugh out loud.

"We're here, we're queer, get used to it," Blaine stage whispers, making exaggerated jazz hands, and coyly blinking his long eye lashes rapidly, head thrown back.

It's in moments like these Kurt thinks he could fall in love with this boy. Blaine has this serious, dapper, determined, hard working, mediating boarding school-personality with a lot of admiring traits. But Kurt is fonder of the impromptu, vibrant, informal, and relaxed Blaine – a persona he rarely shows in public, but Kurt has met him several times in private moments. Kurt doesn't know much about Blaine's background, but it's a long time since he understood Blaine is juggling at least two personalities. One carefully manufactured, mainstream, loveable, serious, perfect, school-Blaine. And one laidback, relaxed, equally loveable, childlike but mature, lively, bouncy, eager Blaine. Kurt has no doubt all of those qualities are real, he doesn't think Blaine is faking anything. But he believes he is restraining himself at school, sorting out what kinds of character traits are undisputable and harmless. When alone with Kurt – and maybe other friends – his remaining qualities explode, giving him the chance to be the rest of himself as well. Even though Blaine will fight for his right to sing P!nk and Katy Perry with the Warblers, Kurt doubts many of the choir members know about his love for Disney songs and musical tunes. Kurt is proud Blaine is daring to show him all of his sides, and he cherishes all the varieties of Blaine he's met so far. But he thinks Blaine would be happier if he didn't have to split himself up for various occasions, and could be the entire him more often. But for now, Kurt will enjoy how Blaine uses LGBT slogans, lets his freak flag fly and make fun of prejudices. Kurt doesn't believe in stereotypes, and would never expect or demand Blaine or any other guy to be gay in a specific way. Being gay isn't done in one way; there is no gay cookie cutter. Kurt embraces diversity and multitude, but most of all he embraces the ability, the will and the chance to be true to oneself and free to be whoever one wants. Despite the bullying, the death threat and everything that went down in McKinley, Kurt has the impression he still feels freer to be who he is than Blaine does. It makes Kurt curious about Blaine's background, wanting to know him better. One day he hopes Blaine will trust him to tell his stories, but Kurt doesn't want to force him.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks his friend carefully. He doesn't continue until he has the boy's full attention. "How do you feel about black mailing?"

The bright gleam in Blaine's eyes is the only answer Kurt needs.

The two boys find Wes sitting cross legged in front of the door, guarding it to prevent anyone from leaving.

"Hey Wes, we'll just pop out to have a quick shower in our bathroom," Kurt says nonchalantly, Blaine standing next to him, and both are smiling innocently.

"Sorry boys, but no one is allowed to leave until the Council says so."

"But Wes, we are all sweaty from yesterday, we need to start this long day with a shower."

"We are doing more dancing today, and you'll probably just sweat again, the shower can wait until after practice."

"We have also been wearing these clothes for 24 hours. That's disgusting, you'll have to let us get new clothes. Maybe you want us in uniform as well, I didn't bring it," Kurt continues.

"Don't stress, Kurt, you can wear the same clothes today, I don't mind. But I expect to see you in uniform for our regular practices."

Kurt sighs, looking over at Blaine, who gives him the "I told you so"-eyes. Kurt smiles, wickedly, and Blaine's eyes widen with curiosity and excitement. Kurt crouches down in front of Wes.

"Wes, darling Wes," he says, poking his index finger on the leader's chest bone. "Have you found your precious gavel yet?" he says, running his finger up along the chest to hook it under the boy's chin, tilting the head up to be able to lock eyes with him. "I know where it is, you know," he whispers, winking to the boy.

Wes' annoyance is clearly visible, he almost fumes, but he is a smart boy, and he knows he can't win this battle. The war will continue, but he will have to wave the white flag for now.

"If you let me and Blaine out of here, I'll give you a good hint as to where the gavel is. I can even promise we'll be back to 9:30, so we can eat breakfast with you before practice begins at ten. That will give you ample time to get the gavel, and you can initiate today's practice with it," Kurt tempts.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"You have looked for the gavel everywhere, haven't you?" Kurt asks, mock concern in voice. Wes simply nods.

"Where is it?"

"Uhuh, that's not how this works. You will open the door, and you will let Blaine and me step out, and then I'll tell you."

Wes sighs, but eventually scrambles up, and opens the door. The two boys gracefully step outside. Kurt turns around to face Wes.

"You will find your cherished gavel in the room which is least used in this school." Without losing a beat, he turns around and moves away from the room, Blaine eagerly following him. When they turn around the first corner, Blaine grabs Kurt by the elbow and stops him to envelope him in a tight hug.

"Oh my God, Kurt, that was so much fun! I've never seen Wes so subdued. Amazing, I just wish more could have seen it to enjoy your black mail-skills."

Kurt bats his eyelids repeatedly, removing some invisible dust from his sleeves, and takes a bow.

"Do you think he'll find it?"

"I doubt it. I have no clue where you can have placed it from your hint. But come on, we should get in the shower." Blaine grabs Kurt's hand, and they run down the hallways, much like they did the first day they met. In Kurt's brain, the words _teenage dream_ and _missing puzzle piece_ keep bouncing around.

Maybe that's why Kurt decides to let his uniform hang in the wardrobe one more day. After all, Wes had said he didn't expect him in uniform this weekend. So he pulls out one of his really skin tight jeans. They are silver grey with a low waist cut. He adds a white thin slim fit pullover and a black waistcoat with shimmering details and a medium grey piping. The buttons go diagonally. It was already buttoned up, so he slips it over his head, without needing help from Blaine. Kurt adds a silver scarf, but he expects it'll have to go some time during rehearsal.

He's about to finish his hair when Blaine enters the room – through the bathroom. Kurt spins around to see the boy dressed in a nice pair of dark blue jeans, a white collared t-shirt and a maroon cardigan. There seems to be some writing on the t-shirt, but Kurt can't see all the letters with the cardigan on.

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice seems hesitant, nervous.

Kurt snaps out of it, he knows he has been starring.

"Sorry, I just sometimes forget you actually have a wardrobe besides the uniforms."

"Hanging out with you makes me self-conscious, but it is really nice to be out of the uniform. It's practical in the mornings, so I don't have to waste time putting an outfit together, though."

"That's what Sundays are for, I usually planned out all ten outfits for the entire week. Why do I make you self-conscious?"

"Ten outfits? How long are the weeks in Lima? Standing next to a fashionista as you makes me feel dressed by a toddler."

"I always brought an extra outfit to change after slushies or dumpster tossings. And Blaine?" Kurt stops, waiting for the other boy to look at him to make sure he gets this.

Blaine looks sad, the reminder of the bullying seems to bother him more than Kurt these days.

"You look great."

Blaine beams.

"Thank you, Kurt! I do care about clothes, they can be important to me and I am conscious about what I wear and what I put together for certain occasions, even though I usually live in my uniform during school, and relax in sweatpants when I do homework. I do have a style; it's just not as bold and ground breaking as yours."

"Blaine, you have to stop comparing yourself to others. You should express yourself the way you want to. Clothes are a means to show individuality, but that possibility disappears if we just copy others. Why do you think I make or amend so many of my outfits? It's to make them _Kurt_, and not just something from the fashion magazines. I add my touch, you add your touch. What you wear now looks good on you, and it's also very typical _Blaine_, although I would have expected a bow tie," Kurt adds teasingly, although he's blushing from complimenting Blaine so openly, harboring on flirting with him.

"The boys often tease me for my bow ties…"

"So you let others control and restrict you?"

"You're right, Kurt. Can you wait two minutes?" Blaine doesn't wait for Kurt to respond, and darts off through the bathroom. He returns shortly after, experienced fingers finishing the bow tie. Kurt notices it's the same blue as Blaine's jeans, with grey details, almost the same color as his own pants.

They are five minutes late when they slip in to the choir room, but there are still 25 more minutes to go before practice. The Warblers are spread around in the room, on couches and recliners. While Kurt and Blaine were gone, a small breakfast buffet has been set up.

"The kitchen staff never could resist David's charm," Blaine chuckles as he loads a plate with eggs and bacon.

The boys settle down on the piano bench. It's not exactly meant for two, but neither Blaine nor Kurt are particularly big boys, so it's spacious enough if they sit close.

"Do you think Wes found the gavel?"

"It doesn't look like it," Blaine answers after studying said boy for a moment. "I'm pretty sure he would have been smacking your head triumphantly with it by now."

"I love good black mail material," Kurt sighs happily, and they both laugh of the absurdity. Kurt didn't even out his closeted tormentor; Kurt will never be anything but kindhearted.

"I wonder what else you could achieve from it… But thank you for the shower, it was much needed."

The Council manages to gather the room, even without the gavel.

"We'll work on the harmonies for the next hours, but Warbler Blaine and Warbler Kurt are excused to help each other work on their solos."

No one sees the quick exchange of looks between Wes and David, but this is all a part of their plan. Of course their soloists need to perfect their numbers, but it wouldn't hurt if the boys are forced to spend some alone-time either.

"Come on, Kurt, I know a perfect room for us." Blaine gently leads Kurt out of the choir room by resting a hand on the boy's lower back.

"This is a much smaller room, but it has a piano. We can't work on the choreography here, but I think we should focus on our voices today, we did enough dancing yesterday."

"Agreed," Kurt chimes as they enter the room.

The boys quickly decide to start with one of Blaine's solos, then work on Kurt's solo, and finish with the third and Blaine's second solo. The Council had given them two hours before they need to be back, so they plan to work on each solo for thirty minutes, giving them a ten minutes break between each song. Blaine and Kurt are both serious and determined boys, and they don't intend to goof around or waist their practice time.

Blaine sings through _Misery_ once while Kurt scans the music sheets to make sure Blaine knows the lyrics and doesn't sing anything wrong. He of course nails it.

Then they work on the song to decide if Blaine needs to change anything – if he needs to sing stronger, softer, louder, more pronounced or add any other effects to ace the performance. Kurt contributes with some suggestions, and they try various solutions. Blaine sings one of the sentences in five different ways before they settle down on a version.

"From the top," Kurt commands, and as Blaine shouts the first "oh yeah" Kurt improvises a back up. Blaine grins at him, but doesn't interrupt or stop him.

"We sound great together. I'm really looking forward to us working with _Baby, It's Cold Outside_."

Kurt has more or less forgotten about their plan to do a duet on the Christmas Ball, and the butterflies in his tummy lazily flap their wings to remind him how excited he originally was.

"This was fun too. We often did impros like this in New Directions, and I've missed it. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. It made the song feel like a number, and not only an a cappella solo. We should sing like that more often."

"But maybe not just a couple of days before a competition," Kurt smirks.

"Hey, you don't have to suck up to Wes anymore, you still have your excellent black mail-material!"

"Oh shush you, don't you want to win this thing?"

Blaine quickly nods firmly.

"Good. From the top," Kurt says, and counts him in.

Blaine dances around, trying to recreate the choreography, but the room is too small, so he ends up just spinning around, jumping the couch a couple of times, and making faces. At the last choruses, he sits down on the couch next to Kurt, and finishes the song leaning his head on Kurt's shoulder, with puppy eyes.

"Poor Blaine, are you in misery? Is there nobody who can comfort you? Is the silence killing you?" Kurt coos, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist.

"I really am in misery," Blaine concedes.

"You smile way too much during that number to make it sound believable. You might want to brush up on your acting skills," Kurt teases.

"Seriously?"

"No, silly, I'm joking. I feel your pain, brother," Kurt exaggerates, and Blaine hits him on the shoulder.

"You used to be nice."

"Tough love, sweety."

"You looooove me," Blaine drawls. Kurt doesn't see the blush crawling up Blaine's face, as he quickly turns around to rummage his bag for the sheet music to _Uprising_, and if it takes some time, it's just because he isn't able to find it until his maroon blush has faded away.

"I wish I could change the gender noun in 'Girl you really got me bad'," Blaine sighs. "It would feel more honest if I could sing about a boy."

"I know," Kurt mumbles, his head still buried in his bag. "Have you talked to the Council about it?"

"No, I don't think they would like to take such a risk in a competition."

"You won't know until you ask, though."

"True… Are you ready for your song?"

Kurt emerges with the sheet music, handing it over to Blaine, so he can check if Kurt remembers the lyrics correctly.

Kurt sings the song several times, and the two boys share ideas and pointers to improve the song and make it even more suitable for Kurt.

"Kurt… Can I ask you a question without you taking it as an insult?"

"OK, I'll think positive," he says, tilting his head curiously.

"What kind of singing lessons have you had?"

"Well, I have been singing my entire life, but I didn't join anything organized until I auditioned for New Directions. So Mr. Schuester is the only tutor I've had, but he's been mostly focused on choreography, song selections, making his own dramas and mending in our dramas," Kurt laughs.

"So you didn't have any individual follow-up?"

"No…" Kurt says hesitantly, wondering what Blaine is thinking about.

The boy steps closer to Kurt, and takes his hands carefully.

"Kurt, you know I love your voice. I'm mesmerized by it. I'm jealous by your range, your voice has character, and your performances impress me with your presence and dedication. But I think maybe _technically_, you have the potential to be even better. Please don't take this the wrong way," Blaine bites his lower lip, watching Kurt carefully. But Kurt laughs, the boy in front of him is just adorable with all his concern and worries. Kurt squeezes his hands, and smiles.

"Go ahead," he encourages. Blaine visibly relaxes from relief.

"OK, so there are various ways to sing, to produce a voice. You can sing with your throat, your chest, and with your stomach. It will give slightly different sounds and influences how easy or difficult it is to push the notes. It also affects how tired your vocal chords gets, and eventually singing in a technically wrong way can ruin your voice in the long run. Does this make sense?"

"It does," Kurt nods. "How do you know so much about this?"

"Oh God," Blaine mutters, shaking his head. "OK, my parents sent me to a maestro for lessons when I was nine. They had a dream about me becoming an opera singer, or at least a classical singer. But look at me and listen to my voice – I'm no opera singer," Blaine laughs. "I stayed for three years and learned a lot, but I had to find my own style and sound."

"That's interesting. A lot of the classically schooled singers seem so polished and manufactured, while your voice still has that rough edge and uniqueness."

"Thank you," Blaine says sincerely. "My point is I think you can sing better if you use your stomach more. Put your abbs to use."

"Blaine, look at me, I don't have abbs."

"Maybe you don't have the most pronounced six pack, but everybody has abbs. If you didn't have muscles around your back and stomach, you wouldn't be able to stand upright, but flip over. Look at Pavarotti, I can bet anything he has a lot of abdominal muscles to bring out such a strong voice. It helps you both breathe and push the voice."

Kurt huffs. "I get the feeling I should work out more to become a better singer."

"Nah, it's more important to know how to use the muscles you have, than to have a lot of muscles you don't use. Can I touch?" he asks, hovering a hand over Kurt's stomach. The boy nods, and Blaine gently puts his hand under Kurt's waistcoat.

"Sing something, so I can feel how you use them."

Kurt finishes the first verse of _Uprising_.

"I see, you can use your abdomen more effectively. But please, Kurt, don't think I don't love your voice. I just want to help you be an even better singer."

"I know, Blaine, it's OK. I just don't know how to do the things you talk about."

Blaine ponders for a moment.

"Let's switch" he says and puts Kurt's hand on his stomach under the cardigan. He then sings a verse and a chorus from _Uprising_.

"Do you feel how I use my stomach?"

Kurt nods, blushingly. "But I still don't understand how you use it," he says, and quickly removes his shaking hand, it probably isn't proper to feel up his friend like that.

"You have to get used to control your muscles. Flex your abbs," Blaine says, putting his hand on Kurt again.

"There's nothing to flex," Kurt mutters.

"Now you're just being silly. Lay down on the floor, then."

Kurt doesn't understand why, but he carefully lies down, hoping the floor isn't too dirty.

"Do you trust me?"

"Obviously."

Blaine steps halfway over him, and lowers himself to straddle Kurt's hips. He keeps standing on his knees, though, and hardly touches Kurt anywhere. Kurt is grateful, because this is close to be hotter than he can handle. There are too many images popping up in his head.

Blaine gently places his hand under Kurt's waistcoat again, and asks the boy to do a couple of sit ups. Not before long he grins triumphantly.

"Hah!" he says. "One more, but freeze when I tell you to."

Kurt sits up half way before Blaine stops him. Blaine runs his index finger lightly over Kurt's stomach, with only the thin pullover separating skin from skin.

"Do you feel it?" he smiles amused.

Kurt's muscles twitch from the almost tickling, and a shiver runs down his spine. He isn't able to form a coherent sentence, but manages to let out an agreeing sound.

"Give me your hand, but don't move." Blaine leads Kurt's hand to the countertenor's own stomach. "Can you feel your muscles?" Kurt nods. "So we can agree you do have muscles to work with?" Kurt nods again. "Great, now come here." Blaine gives Kurt a helping hand, and leads the boy to the wall.

"I want you to stand as close to the wall as possible, and try to push my hand away with your stomach."

Kurt raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really. Here, I'll show you first," he says and quickly moves to stand against the wall.

"Touch me," he encourages, and Kurt really has to focus to not let his mind enter the gutter. He slips his hand under the cardigan, and is surprised to feel the strong push from Blaine's defined abbs as he flexes them.

"Show off," he mumbles, because it's better than thinking about what else those muscles could do.

"Your turn," Blaine laughs honestly, but Kurt doesn't miss the pink decorating his cheeks.

Blaine makes Kurt repeat the action several times, to make him more conscious about his abdominal muscles.

"Great. Now you need to focus on singing while using your stomach."

Blaine coaxes Kurt through some warm-up exercises, encouraging him to sing several ha-ha-ha's rapidly, pumping them out by using his stomach muscles.

"Push up air, and let the sound resonate from your tummy – not from your chest or throat."

Blaine encourages Kurt to exaggerate how he uses the stomach as he sings repeatedly through _Uprising_.

"We are over-doing it now, so it'll be easier for you to grasp the difference and understand what you do."

"God, my stomach is beginning to hurt," Kurt moans.

"That would be your abbs telling you they are doing unfamiliar movements."

"I hope you can give me some input on how to stretch my tummy," Kurt pouts.

"Oh, Kurtsie wants a tummy rub?" Blaine coos. Kurt glares at him.

"This is your fault," he hisses.

"I'll make it up to you tonight, after practice."

"It's OK," Kurt exhales. "I appreciate what you did, though, I like learning new things and I _love_ being a better performer, someone has to offer you some competition" Kurt says and winks boldly at Blaine, making the other boy laugh.

"Don't forget it'll be easier when you've practiced more, but you have to practice regularly in the beginning to make progress. So, run through _Uprising_ once more, and I'll give you input on how to use your stomach?"

Kurt steps away from the wall, and Blaine somewhat eases his push on the other boy's abbs.

"That was perfect, Kurt. I have nothing to comment. I have taught you everything I can."

"Oh Yoda…"

Instantly Blaine jumps in the air and starts singing.

"I met him in a swamp down in Dagobah where it bubbles all the time like a giant carbonated soda, S O D A!"

He takes Kurt's hand, and twirls him around, spins him in a dance and howls out yo-yo-yo-yo-Yoda. Kurt sings the next verse.

"Well, I've been around, but I ain't never seen a guy who looks like a muppet, but he's wrinkled and green. Oh, my Yoda, yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda."

The finish the song by alternating the verses, but end it lying on the floor, laughing and still holding hands.

When they finally get up from the floor, Blaine removes his cardigan, and reveals the word on his t-shirt Kurt hadn't been able to read in the morning.

"Really, Blaine? You didn't dare put on a bow tie, but you sport _Fabulous_ written over your body?"

Blaine just shrugs.

You are, though, Kurt thinks. "_Raise your glass_?"

"_Raise your glass_."

* * *

Lyrics are from

Maroon 5 - _Misery_

Weird Al Yankovic - _Yoda_


	14. A walk in the park

**AN: I'm sorry the update took longer than expected, but as I mentioned I had hurt my arm. Typing with one hand is difficult, and just sitting by the computer has been hurting, so yeah, things took time. But I'm much better now, and suddenly we have a chapter to update!**

**Thank you to an anonymous reviewer from last chapter you pinpointed a continuity error I had made - I'm impressed what you remember and notice!**

**As usual - English is not my first or second language, so have patience with me.  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

"Kurt, you aren't allowed to take the Gavel to new hiding places; that is cheating!" a furious Wes exclaims as Blaine and Kurt return to the choir room, after their own practice for the solos. It's unsettling to see the otherwise calm and polite Dalton student absolutely fuming.

"Your accusation is offending me," Kurt huffs, glaring at Wes and marching right passed him, hardly stopping to deliver his reply. Honestly, he thinks the entire gavel business is immature and stupid, like a poor power trip. They're a show choir, for goodness sake, not the Security Council of the United Nations.

"I have looked every possible place in this building, and I still can't find the Gavel. What else am I supposed to believe, other than you playing me and moving it around?" Wes' voice is accusing and spotting.

Kurt abruptly stops and twirls around to face the boy who's belittling him in the worst manners.

"Oh my God, Wes, is the gavel your horcrux, or something? I hid it on Friday, and I haven't seen or touched it afterwards!" he hisses through clenched teeth.

The otherwise noise-bustling room has fallen completely silent. The famous but yet to be seen pin could have been thunderously loud in the room.

Wes and Kurt stare at each other, unmoving and silently. Both know Wes is too proud and stubborn to ask Kurt to just reveal the hiding place. The member of the Council wants and needs to find the gavel himself, even though he has succumbed to a hint, in a black mail situation none the less. But 36 hours since it disappeared, Wes' frustration is growing. Although Kurt thinks Wes' dependence of the gavel is hilarious, and wonders why he won't just buy a new one or grow up, he can appreciate a good hunt. Kurt is also proud, and has taken pride in the fact that Wes hasn't been able to find the gavel yet – even though they are in a school where Wes has been living for several years and Kurt for less than two weeks. But Kurt won't and can't accept being called a cheater, not even in a silly game of Truth or dare.

Kurt is clenching his fists, taking deep breaths, and opens his mouth as if to say something. Wes interrupts him, and that may be the most impolite behaviour anyone's ever seen from him until this quarrel started. A proper Dalton boy knows not to interject other in conversation, and lets everybody finish their sentence.

"Do you have any witnesses? How can I trust your words to be the truth?" Wes asks. His voice isn't cold; it's mostly desperate, and maybe with a touch of the clutching to the last straw-kind of hope. As if he's hoping to make Kurt cave in, so he can find out why he isn't able to track down his precious belonging.

"Isn't this the epitome of a true gentlemen's club, accusing their members of cheating and lying?" Kurt growls. He takes one step forward, without any intention of actually inflicting any physical threat or harm, just needing to push his words closer to Wes, making sure he hears him.

"OK, calm down, order in the room!" comes the quick call from Trent, the second member of the Council.

David, third member of the Council and Wes' closest friend, takes a hold of the fuming boy's shoulders and leads him to a chair.

Kurt exhales slowly, feeling like a deflating balloon. He slowly turns around, and leaves the room, passing a dumbstruck Blaine without acknowledging him. The Warblers can hear the echoes of his departing steps in the otherwise empty hallway, increasing in pace. They hear the loud slam of a door not being closed as it is supposed to be, and then nothing.

Wes tries to stand up from the chair he's uncharacteristically slumped down in.

"I should go after him and apology."

The entire room interrupts him, and neither David nor Trent sanction against it. That's how severe the situation is.

David pushes him back down in the chair.

"Let him cool down, and make sure you've cooled down as well. Make sure you find the right words to give a proper apology before anything else. Don't rush this; don't screw this up," David calmly tells his brother-from-another-mother. David is the only one who could have said those words to Wes successfully – reprimanding him, comforting him, supporting him and telling him off in one go.

"I'll go and check…" Blaine says carefully, he's not feeling confident at all in this utterly weird situation. He's seen Kurt upset and hurt before, he's seen him scared and anxious. Now he's facing a new Kurt, and he just hopes he'll be able to be what he needs. Blaine isn't an arrogant or cocky kind of guy, but he's strong in his belief that he's the one who's best suited to go after Kurt now. Sure, Kurt has been bonding with Nick, but as far as Blaine knows they haven't had any deep and emotional encounters. Blaine has seen Kurt when he's been pretty low, so he hopes he can use some of that experience to help his friend now. Blaine had been able to get a quick glimpse of Kurt's face when he left the room, and the boy looked devastated.

As Blaine leaves the room, he can hear Trent dismiss the boys for an early lunch. The expected loud and noisy chattering among the boys is deafening silent. Everyone's taken aback with this situation.

Blaine isn't quite sure where Kurt would go if he's upset, he doesn't think the boy has been here long enough to find himself a private comfort spot yet, except for the wide window still in his room. Even though his retreating foot steps had gone in the opposite direction of the dorms, Blaine decides to check the room first, just in case.

Blaine sighs, and tries to remember details from his first weeks and months as a new student at Dalton. He had been a mid-semester transfer, just as Kurt is, and if he concentrates he can still feel the frustration from everything new and confusing. The other boys already knew each other, had found the pace and routines, they had developed the school year thus far together. Blaine came from a public school, trying to blend in and adopt the manners and rhythm of this boarding school. It wasn't always easy, and it took time before he felt included. The boys had been nothing but welcoming, and included him with open arms when he eventually had felt confident enough to take part in other activities than the lessons. But he had needed so much more than just bonding with some guys to feel adjusted and integrated. Now he feels like a true Dalton boy, through and through. But he will never forget who he was, what Dalton has meant and still means to him, and he is so grateful. Dalton is really good to him and for him, and he will never take it for granted. That is how he can remember all the confusion, fright, loneliness and frustration from his first time here. He just hopes Kurt will be able to settle down as well, and not give up.

Blaine locks himself into his empty room, and goes through the bathroom to see if Kurt is in his room. He checks behind the curtains pulled to each side just in case, even though Kurt obviously isn't that small. Of course the boy isn't sitting in his window still. Blaine sighs, and leaves their rooms.

Blaine jogs back to the choir room and continues down the hallway in the direction they had heard Kurt leave. He may have gone outside. That's what Blaine often did in the beginning, when he needed to be alone. He still does sometimes, when he needs tranquility and to be on his own. The initial feelings of being lonely are long gone, but sometimes the boisterous and hectic dorm life can be too much. Boarding is mostly positive now, though, and any negative aspects are linked to the antics of the other boys gone too far.

When he first attended Dalton, the old stone buildings could feel so clustered and clammy. Big rooms, long hallways, tall under the ceilings, winding staircases, several floors, too many doors and exits, and too often he would get lost. The lessons were harder than he was used to, he was still recovering physically, he was so scared, and trying to find himself. The transition was choking. It would feel as if his throat was endlessly peppered with dust, so dry he couldn't breathe or swallow. Everything was too much, too intense. Sometimes he just needed an escape, a time out. They were the moments when he would head outside and walk around in the big premises to be alone, to breathe clean air, to enjoy the silence, to scream out his frustration, anger, and sorrow. The need for open space and fresh air had always overwhelmed Blaine, when Dalton overwhelmed him. Blaine hopes Kurt is thinking in the same way, and heads out.

Almost none of the snow that came on Friday has smelted, but there are shoe prints everywhere, and it's impossible for Blaine to use them to track down Kurt. As if he knew what kind of sole Kurt's shoes have anyway…

Blaine walks around the big building, and continues towards the park on the back of the school. In the distance he can see the outline of the naked apple trees, decorated with a generous sprinkling of snow. During summer there's a big, colourful rose garden, and several benches spread around the area. The fountain is shut down for the winter, and the walking paths aren't as easily seen as they are covered in dead leaves and snow. The park is a beautiful sight, but there is different beauty to different seasons. The park is used for jogging in , strolling around, recreation, games, barbequing in the outdoor fireplace, playing football, killing time, and whatever the people of Dalton need it for. The park is big enough to fulfill most wishes, but it's also so big it's possible to hide away and be alone for a while. Blaine makes a mental note to show Kurt the park, if he isn't already here.

As Blaine enters the iron gates to the park, he notices there is only one pair of shoe prints in the snow. He decides to follow them, hoping it is Kurt's steps. There's quite a gap between the prints, and they are a bit blurry, as if someone has been running. Straight through the garden goes a wider alley with big oak trees on both sides. It's wide enough for three or four persons to walk side by side. Several lamp posts brighten the alley when it's dark. The shoe prints follow the alley, and when Blaine lifts his gaze from studying the ground he sees the outline of a boy, standing still. He quickens his pace to catch up with Kurt.

"Is this the road to Narnia?" Kurt whispers all choked up as Blaine stops beside him. The taller boy turns towards Blaine, and he can see tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh Kurt," he inhales, a bit breathless from his jog, but he quickly embraces him in a tight hug. They stand still for a long time, Blaine holds Kurt close, listening to the muffled sobs against his shoulder. Kurt's arms are trapped between their bodies, and he's fisting Blaine's clothes, shoulders shaking as he cries and bares his sad heart. Blaine strokes his hair, and whispers soothing nonsense. Eventually he can't ignore the strong shivers running through Kurt's body anymore.

"You're cold." It isn't a question, and Blaine loosens his grip around the boy enough to yank off his cardigan. He drapes it over Kurt's shoulders, and then folds himself around the boy again to share his body heat.

"Now you'll be cold…" Kurt mumbles.

"I'm not cold yet; you are cold now," Blaine murmurs, rubbing his hands over Kurt's back. "Wanna go inside and talk?"

"No!" Kurt exclaims, sniffing, and pulling away from Blaine.

"OK, OK, we don't have to," Blaine shushes, tightening both arms around the boy again to stop him from protesting. He decides to wait him out, letting Kurt talk when he's ready. The tremors have almost stilled, and Kurt is more or less standing still in his arms. Blaine continues to rub his back soothingly, and Kurt is resting his forehead on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine is getting cold, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything. Ninety five per cent of his attention is on Kurt, the rest on preventing his chin from shivering against Kurt's cheek to hide he's starting to freeze.

"It isn't fair," Kurt finally sighs, his words tickling Blaine's neck. He lifts one of his hands to stroke the other boy's hair again, hoping Kurt will take it as the comfort it is meant to be.

"I'm so, so tired. I'm exhausted," Kurt whispers. "I never asked for any of this. It isn't fair…"

Blaine can think of many things that aren't fair, but isn't sure what specifically Kurt is thinking about. He is convinced this has nothing to do with Wes, though; their argument was merely the infamous, ever blamed drop to an already bursting glass. He doesn't ask him to elaborate, but continues to stroke his hair and rub his back, holding him tight. Kurt sneaks his arms up to wrap around Blaine's neck, and their bodies touch even closer, sharing body heat.

"He gave me hell, and I'm the one who has to leave my friends and figure out how a new school works out. It's been so, so much these days for me, and I just can't take anymore." Kurt's voice is muffled as he talks into Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine clenches his fists at the thought of Karofsky and everything he put Kurt through. It's true it isn't fair, he should have been the one expelled for good, and Kurt shouldn't have had the need to transfer.

"It's just a stupid game, and I shouldn't let it go to me like that. But…" Kurt chokes on his own sobs. Blaine kisses his hair, and wraps both arms around the boy's body, pulling him tight.

"It still hurt you."

"It's silly, but yeah… I just…"

Blaine gets it. There has been so, so many changes for Kurt in just a couple of days, and it has to get to him eventually. Enough is enough, and when absorbing so many new impressions and experiences it is bound to reach the brim, and anything can be that last, little drop. Blaine's almost surprised Kurt hasn't broken down earlier. Many a student has struggled the first weeks with homesickness and problems adjusting. Except for a couple of nightmares, Kurt seems to have managed fine. Until now. Kurt is strong, but even this courageous fighter has his limitations.

Blaine understands completely why Kurt feels hurt by Wes' accusations, although he also knows they can't be taken seriously in this context. But Kurt is not in a position to be overbearing or rational. Neither is Wes, who always gets snappy and stressed right before a competition. Everybody is getting nervous and uptight, and they deal with it in various ways. Loosing his gavel a few days before Sectionals is probably disturbing Wes immensely, it's as if he thinks all the Warblers' ability to dance and sing is grounded in the gavel. Kurt might have almost nailed it with his horcrux-comment.

"I don't want to be lonely…" Kurt whispers, Blaine can hardly hear him. But he gets it. More pieces of the puzzle Kurt is come to view, and Blaine could smack himself on the head for not realizing it before. Kurt has been rejected all his life, always been told he's not good enough. Kurt had confided to Blaine he never felt completely included in New Directions either. Wes and David are Blaine's closest friends. Blaine has often invited Kurt to join when the three of them have been hanging out in the evenings. Kurt was beginning to see Wes and David as friends. And then he's being rejected. Again. It doesn't matter that Wes was talking more as Council Wes than as Private Wes, he still hurt Kurt.

A vibration in Blaine's front pocket startle both of them, but Blaine keeps standing still, holding Kurt close, comforting him as the sobs slowly dissolve. Two minutes later the phone vibrates again, this time notifying an incoming call. He had set the phone to silent when practice started.

"You can answer it," Kurt says, sniffing and wiping his tears away.

"No, I'm all yours," Blaine responds silently. Kurt is upset and feeling lost, the least Blaine can do is the courtesy of giving him his undivided attention.

The phone vibrates again, and the boys are standing so close Kurt can easily feel it as well.

"Answer it, Blaine, it could be important."

"Nothing can be more important than you now," Blaine says sincerely, but he picks up the phone from his pocket to see who's calling. It's David, so Blaine accepts the call, but is still holding Kurt close to him with his free hand. He turns his head slightly away from Kurt's head to avoid talking right into the boy's ear.

"Hi David. … Yeah, I found him. … No, but he will be. … Yeah, I know, it's the stress. … Give us some more time. … OK, I'll text you. Bye."

Blaine slips his phone back into his pocket, and wraps his arms around Kurt again, but under the cardigan he is borrowing. The cold has gotten to him for quite some time now, it's actually kind of freezing standing outside in a t-shirt, but he won't leave Kurt or force him inside before he's ready either. Kurt looks at him questioningly, and Blaine knows he wants to know what the call was about.

"David is hoping we'll come back for practice, but take your time, Kurt," he says silently

"I feel so bad, I'm keeping you away when it's me having issues," Kurt says equally silent.

"Hey!" Blaine scolds; cupping Kurt's chin and tilting it up to make sure the boy is paying attention. "You don't have _issues_. You are hurt, tired, scared and confused. You need a friend, so here I am, if you want me."

"You get me," Kurt says, almost in awe.

"Of course I do. Not only are you my friend, but I have been in this exact same position. I know how overwhelming it is to come to Dalton. I know how it is to carry the extra baggage we are forced to add from our public school-experiences. I also know how unreasonable Wes can be with his pre-competition jitters. I'm not defending him, but I hope you'll take it as an explanation."

Kurt nods silently.

"Wes doesn't hate you. We all like you, and you haven't done anything wrong. Wes didn't mean to accuse you of all those things. He's just uptight before the competition, and isn't so good at dealing with his nerves."

Blaine is surprised and revealed to hear Kurt chuckle.

"No kidding," he says, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. "Are you nervous?"

Blaine contemplates the question for a bit.

"I'm excited, I'm looking forward to it, I hope I'll do my best, and I'm a bit restless. I love to perform, but I get a bit nervous when we're getting close to entering the stage. Luckily, it hasn't affected my performances so far. Quite opposite, it makes me more focused and on edge. I think that's good."

Kurt nods against his shoulder again, humming an agreement.

"People deal with their nerves differently. And people get nervous in different ways. Unfortunately, you had to deal with Wes' nerves today. He calms down the day before the competition, puts on his council hat, and is professional. As soon as we're back in school after the competition he's back to his usual self, and you would never believe he can be an obnoxious bundle of nerves." Blaine looks sternly at Kurt, making sure Kurt understands Wes can be a bit of a mister Hyde.

"How about you? Do you get nervous?" he asks in afterthought. He had almost forgotten about Kurt's solo, even though they practiced for it together only hours ago.

"I don't know, I haven't had a solo in a competition before. I've just sung and danced as prepared, done my bit to make the whole, but not felt important enough to be able to jeopardize the performance. I guess I've just enjoyed the ride, and then fought on for a solo until next competition."

"And how do you feel now, three days before your solo debut?"

"Surreal," Kurt chuckles, and Blaine smiles fondly at him.

The boys stay silent for a while more, but eventually Blaine can't fight off the cold anymore, and shivers rip through his body.

"Let's go inside before you turn into a popsicle," Kurt demands, giving Blaine back his cardigan.

"What kind of flavour would I be?" Blaine asks, walking them out of the park.

Kurt glances quickly at him.

"Multi flavoured. Without doubt. You're far too interesting and complicated to be just lemon or strawberries or vanilla. You're everything," he says, giving a shy smile

Blaine grins as he opens the main door into the building, gesturing for Kurt to enter.

"I'm everything, huh?"

"That's not solely a compliment, you know."

"I guess I'll just have to accept the good with the bad," he smiles and winks. "Hey, where are we going?" Blaine asks, as he realizes they aren't headed back to the choir room.

"I'm taking you to our room. You need a hot shower stat, hopefully the cold hasn't been able to inflict you yet. I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to…"

"Kurt," Blaine quickly interrupts. "You needed a friend, I want to be that friend, so I stayed. And seriously, I'm not that cold."

Kurt gives him one of his characteristically expressive looks, this one saying "honestly?"

"Your nose and ears are red, and…" Kurt stops to run his fingers up under Blaine's sleeve. "…You still have goose bumps on your arms. You're going into the shower, and you'll dress in something warm afterwards. Layers, Blaine, layers," he reminds him.

OK, so perhaps Kurt was right, and Blaine felt kind of chilly after being outside for so long. But some of the goose bumps hadn't been there until Kurt's fingers had lightly touched their way up his arm. It had given him cold shivers down the spine as well, but his face and tummy suddenly felt very warm. Body temperatures sure could be a funny thing.

"How about you? Are you cold, do you need to warm up, you can take a shower before me, if you want to?" Blaine mentally kicks himself for rambling. This is stupid, he should be able to form normal sentences. He is an eloquent, well mannered, well read and polite young man. But sometimes Kurt manages to leave him babbling or complete dumbstruck.

"It's fine, your cardigan helped a lot, so I only feel a little frost bite on my nose and ears. It'll pass. But I think I'll snuggle a bit in bed while I wait for you to finish, because it can never hurt to relax in warm covers, you know."

Blaine is glad to see Kurt feeling more calm and collected. Their teasing banter and jokes are a good sign Kurt is feeling better. Still Blaine is concerned. There's one thing to be less sad in front of a friend, but Blaine isn't sure if Kurt will want to join him for more practice today.

"Are you OK? I mean, is it OK to go back to the Warblers afterwards?" Blaine is glad Kurt takes his time to actually think about the question, and not answering automatically.

"I guess it'll be a bit embarrassing or awkward; everybody saw that scene. But hey, at least I don't have to miss all the drama in New Directions anymore," Kurt laughs constrained.

The boys have reached their shared bathroom, and Blaine gives Kurt a warm, long hug before ushering him into his room.

"I'll wake you up when I'm warm and dressed," he assures him.

* * *

As the two boys leave their rooms, Blaine shoots off a quick text to David, explaining they are on their way. That's why Wes meets the boys in the hallway, outside their practice room.

"Kurt, may I please talk with you for a moment?" Wes looks both shy and embarrassed, not quite meeting their eyes, kicking some dust on the floor, and his hands tucked deep in his pockets, probably to prevent them from fiddling too much.

It is Kurt who gives Blaine's hand a reassuring squeeze, making his tense body relax again. They smile at each other, before Blaine excuses himself and joins the rest of the Warblers.

"Kurt, I'm so, so sorry. I could give you a thousand excuses about stress, nerves, too much to do and not enough sleep, jittery mood and about the burdens from the responsibility of leading us. But it's only excuses; it still isn't acceptable to snap like I did."

"It's OK, Wes, it really is."

"No, it isn't. I would never accept behaviour like that from any of the Warblers, and there should be stricter, not slacker, expectations from the Council." Wes is adamant.

"Wes, let's just call this some kind of a competition-induced state of emergency, and move on. I'm not my usual self either, and reacted out of character. But may I ask you one thing?"

"Of course!" Wes seems almost too eager to please Kurt.

"Aren't David, Trent and you supposed to be the Council together?"

"Yes, of course, and we are."

"It seems to me that you take too much of the workload. Maybe you should try to delegate some of the preparations and responsibility? Make it more of a joint effort? You often seem like the leader of the Council, and I though you were supposed to be equal members in the leading trio."

Wes is silent for a long time, mouth open and a deep worried wrinkle between his eyes.

"Oh…" he finally says. "I haven't though about that. I'm just… passionate about the Warblers."

Kurt snorts.

"That's a really noble trait, Wes, but don't let it burn you. Or us."

"I'll think about it, Kurt, I really will. But are we still friends?"

"We never weren't friends," Kurt smiles softly. "So, do you want to know were the gavel is?"

Kurt is surprised to hear Wes laugh at this.

"Uhuh, the boys have bets going on how long it will take me to find the gavel. Nick and Jeff bet I will cave and just let you give it to me. I am not about to give them that victory," Wes laughs, his eyes gleaming. "But maybe I will have to negotiate with you for some more hints eventually."

"That may be arranged, my dear Wesley."

The boys enter the practice room together, laughing, and that is enough for the other Warblers to drop their questions and concern. Now they need to focus on preparing their upcoming competition.

* * *

When they finally are dismissed, Kurt feels both sore and hoarse. He fantasizes about a big tub he can soak in, to ease his tired muscles. The Council has allowed them to go back to their dorms, but for some reason everybody are eager to continue their slumber party, and spend a second night in sleeping bags on the floor. The boys have magically pulled out endless amounts of snacks and coffee from various bags and hiding places. A heated debate between David and Trent on which film to watch is currently drowning all other noise in the room. Kurt contemplated going back to his bed, but he doesn't want to be a spoilsport, so he decides to endure yet another night with bad sleep.

"How are you doing?"

Kurt looks up from where he's stretching on the floor, and sees Nick has come over.

"My body is killing me, but otherwise I'm splendid," he says dryly.

"And you and Wes?"

"We're fine. He's a bit anal about his gavel, but…" Kurt is interrupted by Nick's rough laughter.

"Oh Kurt, the mental images you just gave me!"

"What?" Kurt asks, honestly confused.

"You know: Wes, anal, gavel, phallus."

"Oh my God, Nick, get your mind out of the gutter!" Kurt exclaims scandalized. He really likes Nick and Jeff, but sometimes their humour and comments are a bit too much for Kurt, and he certainly isn't used to hearing jokes like that unless it's as a semi-insult from Santana, or Puck being rowdy and frisky at Kurt's expense.

Nick still laughs, and Kurt's expression triggers his laughter even more. Kurt can't help himself, and laughs a little as well, 'cause it was a bit funny, and it actually feels liberating in an alien way to share dirty jokes with a friend. That, he is sure, is a first for him.

Kurt and Nick have sat down in one of the couches, and various members of their glee club have moved the other couches and armchairs up to the screen in the other end of the room, to make comfortable seating for their film screening.

Nick and Kurt have been chatting for a while, when Blaine joins them, with a mystery box.

"Blaine, where have you been? And what have you brought?" Kurt's eager curiousness makes both Nick and Blaine laugh.

"Well, first I got to our rooms to pick up our PJs, and then I went to the dining hall to get us some proper dinner, we haven't had a real meal since breakfast."

"Blaine, the dining hall closed hours ago."

"Yeah," and Blaine actually had the decency to blush now, "Mildred, the chef, was still there, washing and closing up, so I kind of just smiled and asked politely? And got this…"

"Why am I not surprised?" Kurt shakes his head amused.

"She heated some lasagne for us, and even found two slices of raspberry cheese cake. I've been told to have quite a persuasive smile."

"You make it sound as if you did more than just smile, Blaine. If I didn't know you are gay…"

"Shush you, and be grateful I brought you food. Now, go change into your pyjamas, and we can eat. Hurry," Blaine says, throwing Kurt's clothes at him and ushering him out of the couch.

"You are so married," Nick chuckles, as he leaves to cuddle up with his boyfriend. Both boys blush and look in opposite directions.

"I so need a spa day tomorrows," Kurt sighs as he joins Blaine again. "I don't have any of my lotions here, and my skin care regime has gone haywire this weekend. Umm, what are you doing?"

While Kurt was gone, Blaine has moved the couch he sat in against the wall, with the seats closest to the wall. He's now placing their sleeping bags and two throw cushions in the couch.

"I thought it would be more comfortable to sleep here than on the floor. This way, neither of us will fall out of the couch. Now, you come and eat while it's still fairly lukewarm."

Kurt scrambles over the back of the couch, and sits down next to Blaine with legs criss-crossed. He gratefully accepts the food and a water bottle from Blaine.

"This isn't a very big couch…" Kurt says carefully, trying to solve how they'll manage to lay down and sleep there, both of them.

"Luckily we aren't very big boys either," Blaine answers cheerfully.

They're done eating, and have lain down next to each other in their sleeping bags. The wall and the back of the couch make a safety frame preventing them from falling out, as there isn't much space for both of them, but they might manage.

"You know, if we spoon we'll use the couch more efficiently," Blaine suggests.

Kurt swallows, and his throat feels dry. Lying even closer, is that such a good idea? It's frightening, but it's tempting as well. They've shared a bed before, but then Kurt had nightmares and needed the comfort. Kurt isn't used to that kind of closeness in a friendship. He isn't used to other guys willingly touching him, although being at Dalton and especially being friends with Blaine has given him a lot of new experiences. Of course he's shared bed with his girls, but they haven't spooned. What if he does something wrong, what if he crosses some boundaries he isn't sure where goes?

"I just really like cuddling, but you don't have to if you don't want to," Blaine whispers; as if he's reading Kurt worries. Which he probably is doing in some way or another, when Kurt didn't answer right away.

"Umm, no, yes, sure, spoon. Which spoon do you want to be?"

"The little spoon, so you can keep me warm in case I get some post traumatic chills from earlier," Blaine says adorably, and turns over with his back to Kurt. Kurt follows, and soon after both boys are lying down with their faces against the wall. Kurt isn't sure what else to do, but Blaine takes his hand and pulls it closer to him. Blaine doesn't let go of his hand though, and even snuggles closer into Kurt's embrace. The casted arm is tucked awkwardly between their bodies, and Kurt can predict it will fall asleep during the night and be weird and throbbing when they wake up.

"I have to do something with this," he says, trying to wiggle the arm from where it's trapped. Blaine lifts his upper body, and Kurt stretches his arm. Blaine lays down again, his head resting right below Kurt's shoulder.

"This is nice," he sighs contently.

Kurt nods his agreement in the back of Blaine's head. If he tightens his grip around Blaine at the same time, it's merely a coincidence. Sure. Both boys are in their sleeping bags, only arms and heads on the outside. Their bodies are separated by two thick layers. Still, Kurt thinks, this is the most intimate he's been with a boy his entire life. A hug is nothing in comparison. It's actually kind of nice. He listens to sleeping Blaine's even breathing, and he listens to the rest of the Warblers' whispering. Not one of them comments them sharing a couch, not one of them give them any funny looks. The sound on the movie is muted, and more and more Warblers have to capitulate to The Sandman. Eventually Kurt manages to relax with his arms around Blaine, and he falls asleep as well.


	15. Seize the popcorn

**AN: Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, neither do I own the movie _Dead Poets' Society_.**  
**Warning: Great spoilers from said movie, if you haven't seen it and don't want to know.  
**

* * *

Monday morning is a blur of Warblers scurrying around to get out of their sleeping bags, pack their belongings spread all over the room, getting back to the dorms for showers and uniforms, stumbling down to the dining hall for breakfast, and panic over homework that has been neglected during the intense weekend.

Kurt wakes up the same way he fell asleep; with Blaine wrapped up in his arms. Blaine doesn't seem to mind, and greets him with a cheerful "good morning!" and sparkling eyes. Kurt really tries to think it's nothing weird about it, but it doesn't prevent him from blushing from hair roots to belly button. But if someone would put a trigger to his head, he'll admit it was his best sleep ever, and that he'll give anything to have many more of such nights. But preferably in a bed.

While Kurt fights his way out of the sleeping bag, he has to stop with a groan and a moan, clutching his stomach.

"What's wrong?" an obvious worried Blaine asks.

"My muscles, they are killing me… What did you do to them?" Kurt hisses, shooting daggers at him.

Blaine just shrugs.

"At least you now admit you have abs. I'd call that progress," he winks, and laughs as he tries to stuff his sleeping bag back to its tiny container.

"You are a mean, mean man," Kurt grumbles. Gosh, he needs some coffee.

* * *

The school day disappears as if someone has hit the fast forward-button, and Kurt feels as if he's constantly running to a new lesson, always three minutes late. The teachers are giving massive lectures, loaded with information, knowledge they are expected to learn by heart, details, years, names, locations, formulas, new chapters a teacher had forgotten all about, and now and then also a hint about what would be wise to study extra carefully the next weeks. In other words – exams are approaching, and hell weeks have started.

Kurt still isn't able to take any notes, with his cast on. Unfortunately it won't be removed in time for his exams either, but luckily most of the teachers have offered him presentations or questionings as alternatives. He still needs to hand in something written for both English and French, to prove he can write the languages as well, but he's been allowed to hand them in a week after the cast is gone. The other students will do written exams for five hours, so Kurt feels a tremendous pressure to deliver. He'll have much more time than the others to write good essays, so he assumes the teachers will have greater expectations for his works, and he'll really have to deliver to get the top marks he craves.

Fortunately, Kurt's gotten great notes from every single lesson since he transferred. Blaine's given him copies of his notes from the classes they share, and other classmates have helped Kurt in the classes they don't share. Blaine had discreetly suggested who Kurt should ask, based on his experience with their test results, ability to pay attention in class and thus expected quality on the notes. Kurt had added proper penmanship as a demand. There's no point in having copies of detailed and elaborated notes, if he can't interpret the writing.

During lunch Kurt barely has time to eat anything, as he has to make a detour for the library. The history teacher talked about two books Kurt didn't know was part of the curriculum, so he's desperate to get hold of them and read through before exams. He still doesn't feel he's managed to catch up in his classes after he began at Dalton. The workload at McKinley was less demanding, lower expectations, not as thorough, and they hadn't always been going through the same topics as they have been through at Dalton before Kurt transferred. Kurt tries to accept he'll get lower grades this term, and that he'll be à jour with the rest of the student mass next semester, but it still feels like failure. He knows for certain he doesn't want to give up without an effort, and he'll do his best until the last minute. He owes it to his dad and Carole, who gave up on their honey moon for his sake. He owns it to himself as well – if he's going to fulfil his dreams about New York he has to stay ahead of his competition.

No one must misunderstand, and think Kurt has been slacking off and thus paying for it no. Oh no, Kurt has always been a model student. He has always done his homework, studied hard, done well, never fallen behind, and usually been ahead of their schedules. But coming to Dalton is an entirely different story. Not only are the academics heavier and the teachers expecting more, but the students are also different. At McKinley, Kurt was a loser. At Dalton, getting good grades, knowing answers in class and doing well is prestigious. There are competitive students who push each other to be better, who support and help each other, and who are getting praise from other students for their achievements. But they aren't merely book worms and nerds; they are also great guys with social antennas. They live up the boarding school mythology with their pranks, nightly gaming and movie watching, sneaking in girlfriends and being normal teenagers. For Kurt, it's like Mecca or Heaven. Finally he's in a place where education is appreciated. Finally he's among people who can actually understand him and they can have discussions together on political questions or historical analysis. Finally he's among boys who want to be his friends. Finally he's in a place where he's challenged, and nothing comes for free.

It comes with a price.

Kurt feels as if he's been working nonstop since he first stepped into Dalton – or at least since he did it the second time, as he only spied and had coffee the first time. If he's not in lessons or rehearsing with Warblers, he's sitting diligently by his desk or in the library with books, copies of notes, markers and his laptop. Short breaks for food, some texting with his New Directions-friends – but not as much as he'd like, a couple of phone calls with his father, and in the late evenings collapse in front of a TV or a computer to watch a movie, often in company with Blaine, sometimes with other Dalton boys as well.

When last lesson finally is done on Monday, Kurt hurries back to his room. He is a master of making – and following up - plans, so today he'll make an outline of how he will dispose the next weeks before the exams commence. He has exactly fourteen days for the finale preparations – Monday in two weeks the first exam is scheduled. According to the plan from the administration posted on the intranet, he'll have six exams in five days, not counting the two essays he has to hand in the week after. Saturday that week is the big Christmas ball, where Blaine and he will perform their duet, and they still haven't had time to rehearse it. The obvious reason for that being Sectionals, which is in two days, on Wednesday. Which leads to more rehearsing tomorrow. Thursday is Thanksgiving, so Kurt has promised his father to come straight home after their competition, and spend the entire Thursday with his family. Both his family and friends has expressed their hope and wish for him to spend the entire weekend back home, but Kurt suspects he'll get more studying done at Dalton. He hasn't promised or decided anything yet. He also has to search his wardrobe for an outfit to the ball when he's back home, Kurt reminds himself, and types in a note with an alarm on his phone, set to chime Thursday morning. Kurt scrolls through his calendar on the phone, and notices he'd forgotten about his appointment at the hospital to remove the cast. It's the same day as the ball, so he doesn't have to think about any sleeve adjustments no matter what he ends up wearing.

After drafting a rough outline of his next fourteen days, Kurt plots what kind of studying he'll do which day. He likes to focus on one single subject for an entire evening, instead of doing a little bit here and a little bit there in five different classes. That way he's more focused and thorough.

He goes over his plan a second time, making a few smaller adjustments, before pasting his plan to the wall over his desk. Usually Kurt has his plans memorized by heart after developing and writing them down, but it's nice to have it as ink on paper as well, reminding him.

Kurt sighs as he spots the crumbled note in the corner of his desk. It's the Secret Santa-note, and he still hasn't had time to think about anything nice to do. Sadly, it's nothing he can find out by studying in his books either. It's about time to call in some expert help, he thinks, and checks to see if Mercedes is online on Skype.

Mercedes _is_ online, and is eager to talk with her friend. Even though it's only been a couple of days since the party, they still have some catching up to do. They didn't get to talk too much privately during the party either, so it takes time before Kurt can approach the topic that originally made him call her.

He talks about the intense rehearsing weekend, about the fight with Wes and his own meltdown, but he downplays how important Blaine had been, and he certainly doesn't mention how they slept together. It's not as if he doesn't want to share it with Mercedes, but it feels precious. It's not like a silly celebrity crush they can gossip about, he doesn't want Mercedes to laugh at him or interpret anything. He needs to digest everything for himself first, he needs to find his own voice in what's happening, he needs to find his own conclusion and understand, before he shares it with someone else. What's going on between him and Blaine – if there's anything going on at all – seems too tender and fragile, and he's afraid it'll disappear or break if he makes a number out of it. So he'll just continue to breathe carefully, and appreciate anything he gets to experience with the boy.

Mercedes updates him on what's going on at McKinley; about love triangles and who's flying solo, about their director's new crazy ideas (this week's theme is apparently _loneliness_, such a cheerful topic), and about the shopping adventures she and Tina had been through this weekend.

"You're coming home for Thanksgiving, right boo?"

"Yeah, I am, but I don't know if I'll be able to stay the entire weekend, it's just crazy here, with all the exams, and more Warblers' rehearsals and…"

Kurt knows his tired shows in his voice.

"Don't push yourself too hard, OK? And, what do you know, soon it's Christmas, and then you can relax for several weeks!"

Kurt smiles fondly at his friend. He's so glad to have her. She could have sulked about him making the upcoming holiday weekend short, but instead she understands and supports him.

"Oh, Mercedes, speaking of Christmas, I need your help."

Instantly her eyes gleams eagerly, and Kurt can't help but laugh.

"Go ahead, boy!"

So Kurt tells about how they are doing Secret Santa in Warblers, and he hasn't had time to think about anything to do, and he should be getting to it by now.

"We're not expected to spend a lot of money, which is nice, because some of the guys here come from filthy rich families, so I would feel quite intimidated by matching that. But I'm so stressed and haven't much time for anyone but me…"

"But don't you think that's the point? The Secret Santa-stuff will force you to take care of another Warbler, but it will also make sure that you don't drown yourself in school work? By being nice to someone else, you're also being nicer to yourself?"

"That's actually… deep, girl…"

"Hey, no mocking, or I'll have to make a call to the real Santa," Mercedes threatens, but winks.

Kurt lifts his hands in mock surrender.

"I'll be nice, I don't want coal in my stocking," he laughs.

"That's right. Now, back to business. What would you appreciate as a distraction if you're all stressed and uptight with exam preps?"

"That's not the point what _I_ would like; I have to find something nice for Nick. Nick isn't me."

"OK, so what do we know about Nick? Have I met him?"

"He was at the party. He's dark haired, tall, dating Jeff."

"Oh, OK, I know who he is. What do you know about him?"

"He's dark haired, tall, dating Jeff…"

Mercedes laughs out loud.

"I see, but maybe you'll get a new friend out of this, 'cause we have some research to do. But you can start out with something plain and simple, something anyone would appreciate. Get to know him, report to me, and then we can plot some Nick-related surprises. Does he have a last name?"

"Of course he does. Are you going to facebook stalk him?"

"Oh wait, he is already your friend, I'll take it from here. What other Warblers have you befriended lately?"

Mercedes isn't really looking at him, but skimming through what Kurt assumes is Nick's facebook page.

"Mercedes, what are you looking for? Or who are you looking for?"

"No one special, just browsing, you have found yourself a school with eye candy, boy! Have you seen these pictures?"

"Which pictures?"

"There are a lot of party pictures here."

"So?"

"Kurt. Let me give you two important key words." Mercedes looks directly at him, and it's as if her gaze can stare at him right through two computer screens. "Pool. Party."

Oh. _Oh!_

"But Mercedes, you know he's gay? As in dating Jeff, not as in being happy?"

"I know, but a girl can enjoy what she sees? Besides, Jeff isn't the best candy I spot…" Her smirk is undeniable.

"OK, you enjoy your research, and let me know if you find anything valuable. I think I'll text him and invite him to a movie night for today, and I'll bake some cookies when I'm home for Thanksgiving. Does that sound like a plan?"

"It does, but maybe you should invite Jeff as well, so he doesn't have to be jealous?"

"Why should he be jealous?"

"Because you're inviting his boyfriend to spend time, alone, in your room, with you - a hot piece of gay eye candy."

Kurt didn't know it was possible to flush that quickly.

"You're biased…" he mutters. "Anyway, spending time alone with the two of them is like watching the intro to a porn film."

"So invite Blaine as well. Either they'll behave because there are more of you, or you have someone you can make your own smut with."

Kurt didn't know he could get even redder.

"I have to go, home work calls, but thanks for the talk," he quickly says before logging off, not willing to continue that topic. He sends a quick text to Nick, asking if he and Jeff need a break from their books. He quickly gets a positive response, and then tells them to bring whatever movie they'd like to watch. He hesitates for a moment, before inviting Blaine as well. He doesn't have to tell Mercedes, 'cause she'll only end up teasing him endlessly.

_Lazy bum._

The text from Blaine honestly confuses him, and he replies instantly with a question mark.

_Are you honestly texting me from the other side of the wall?_

Kurt chuckles. Blaine must have gotten so used to him dropping by via the bathroom whenever he has a question, request or suggestion.

_In my defence: I didn't know if you were in your room._

_You didn't get up to check either. So: Lazy bum!_

Kurt thinks for a moment before hitting send on the reply he typed out. Can he say such a thing, or is it crossing some boundaries?

_There's nothing wrong with my bum._

Kurt almost starts chewing his thumbs when the text is sent. Is that flirting? Is that OK to say to a friend? His nerves grow for every second he doesn't get a reply from Blaine. He shouldn't have sent that text.

_Are you questioning me? I better check if you're right when I come over next._

Kurt chokes on air as he reads that text. His mental freak out is interrupted by another incoming text.

_Niff said you're having a movie night. Without us. We're insulted! Wanna lose that solo? David_

Kurt laughs at the text, even after what happened yesterday he can't take the threat serious. But he will of course welcome David and Wes over – it's guaranteed David is including Wes when he talks about "we". He types a humble response.

_I would never intend to insult Oh Mighty Ye. Don't touch my solo! Movie at eight, bring your crazy._

In a moment of bold friskiness, he texts Blaine as well:

_My bum and I await your visit._

His phone beeps again before he manages to find the notes he had planned to read today.

_Is crazy a synonym for orgy?_

What? Whatever are Wes and David thinking about now? Kurt scrolls through the last texts to see what he had written to David.

Oh. Well bugger…

_Sorry, wrong number, last text was meant for Blaine._

Kurt regrets it immediately the text is sent. Why did he have to explain himself, and give himself more trouble?

_Please leave me out of your sexting, sir. ;D_

Yes. This was going to be a long night…

* * *

Jeff and Nick have arrived and settled down in Kurt's bed – as his guests and being Secret Santa, he thought they should have the most comfortable seats. They brought _Dead Poets' Society_, a movie choice that both surprises and pleases Kurt.

Blaine has just arrived through the bathroom, and he actually grins wide at Kurt. Fortunately, he doesn't say anything, and Kurt is saved from any possible embarrassment as someone knocks on the door.

Or, that's what he thought until he opens the door, revealing Wes and David standing with their hands in front of the other's eyes.

"Is it safe to enter?" Wes says, peaking through two of David's fingers.

"Good grief, what do _you_ think? What does it look like we're doing?"

Wes removes one hand so David can check for him.

"They're all dressed," he stage whispers to Wes. "I think the orgy is off."

"My, how embarrassing this would have been if we showed up naked as first planned," Wes grins.

Kurt closes the door in front of them, and climbs on top of his bed to get settled in his nice window still. Nick and Jeff give him some questioning looks, but Kurt just shrugs it off, hoping they'll think it's their usual craziness.

"We should know Blaine already was here," David laughs through the now wide open door. "His furniture climbing is rubbing off!"

Wes and David have brought quilts and pillows, and make their own nest on the floor.

"I wouldn't want to risk you catch anything," Blaine scolds, and jumps unto the bed to join Kurt in the window. Both sit with feet dangling out of the still, careful not to kick Nick and Jeff in the back of their heads.

Kurt has never seen the film before, and it captivates him from the first scene. He smiles when Mr. Keating talks about how earlier students now are merely fertilizing daffodils, and we should seize the day – _carpe diem, gather ye rosebuds while ye may_. Kurt absorbs the message about living in the moment and grasping every opportunity, making our lives extraordinary, and challenging conformity to individuality. But another, more analytical, part of Kurt can't help but step back and compare the movie to Dalton. The comparison comes easily, especially as one of the main characters is in fact named Charles Dalton. Kurt thinks maybe his Dalton is a mixture of _Dead Poets' Society_ and _Harry Potter_ – but with less pipe smoking in caves and magic spells while flying on brooms. It's grand. Thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton…

"This is my favourite scene," Nick whispers, as Mr. Keating helps Todd Anderson release his inner poetry, making him compose a beautiful revelation about truth and lies. When Neil Perry performs his speech as Puck, Kurt shivers. He's always been fond of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, and to see the monologue in that setting gives it a new dimension to him.

He catches movement from the corner of his eyes, and risks a quick glance away from the captivating TV screen. The sight of Blaine discreetly wiping away a tear makes Kurt's heart ache. On the screen, Neil has been through some rough arguments with his father, who refuses him to join the theatre and follow his dreams. It's strange to see Blaine cry, it's the first time he's seen the boy showing such emotions. Kurt has cried plenty in front of Blaine; he's actually ashamed to realize how much crying he's done in front of the boy, to be honest. Kurt is even more ashamed to discover he doesn't know that much about Blaine's past. He doesn't know why he was a mid semester transfer as Kurt is, he doesn't know anything about Blaine's coming out-story. He doesn't know if Blaine is shedding tears for the sadness of the movie, or if it triggered a memory. Kurt makes a mental note to talk with Blaine about these things, as he carefully scoots closer and wraps his arm around Blaine's shoulders. As Neil picks up the small handgun, Blaine's breathe hitches, and he leans his head on Kurt's chest. And as the gun goes off, he grabs for Kurt's other hand. Kurt can feel the damp spots on his shirt from Blaine's tears soaking through to his skin.

When Todd Anderson pushes himself to step up and stand on his desk, calling "Oh Captain, my Captain," Kurt gets goose bumps all over his body. He feels shivers run through Blaine as well, and pulls him closer without hesitation, while several more of the boys climb on top of their desks.

There's an honest and sincere silence in the room as the credits roll over the screen. Nick and Jeff have lain down in Kurt's bed, with Jeff as the big spoon. David is leaning his head on Wes' shoulder, and Wes leans his head on David's head. Blaine is still resting on Kurt's chest, their fingers interlaced in Kurt's lap. His eyes are still moist when he looks up through his long eyelashes and smiles at Kurt. Kurt's heart stutters as he smiles back, and his tummy makes a somersault.

The DVD-player is looping the menu section, so Kurt gently disentangles himself from Blaine and jumps down to eject the DVD. With that swift action he also breaks the silent spell that had taken over the room.

Jeff and Nick sit up from their spoons, and Blaine jumps out of the window, making sure to land between the two turtle doves and breaking them apart for the rest of the evening. Kurt rolls his office chair closer to the boys, and puts his feet to rest on the headboard of his bed.

"Shoot, I forgot I had popcorn," he remembers and ejects from the chair. He rummages through one of the drawers, and returns to his seat with two bags of said snacks.

"And this," Wes says kneeling in front of Kurt, "is why we love you, Kurt Hummel!"

"Isn't that true, Blaine?" David asks and tickles the boy under his feet.

"Ye-es," Blaine laughs, and tries to reach over Nick to reach for one of Kurt's many throw cushions. "I think we all can agree Hummel is quite loveable," he grins, using a pillow decorated with peacock feathers to whack David on the head.

Kurt tries to ignore his blush as he gets up to interject between the two boys.

"Hey, that pillow has done nothing wrong, leave it out of this!" he says, quickly prodding it out of Blaine's grip. Towering over the boys as he stands tall gives him the advantage he needs to save his pillow without a fight.

A surprise attack from Wes and David gives them the advantage they need to disarm Kurt. They grab him around the waist and yank him backwards, so he lands on his back in their laps.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kurt hisses, struggling to get on his feet again.

"It seemed like a good idea," Wes states as if it is the most obvious thing to say.

"What? Why?"

"Don't question everything, carpe diem, Kurt!" David yells, and throws two fists of popcorn at the three boys in the bed.

"No, no, no, no, no, this isn't happening!" Kurt shrieks, trying to wrestle out of the grip holding him down. Unfortunately, David and Wes are unfairly strong, so they manage to both hold him down and engage in the food fight with Niff and Blaine. Kurt contemplates knocking the boys with his cast, but decides against it. It is after all less than 48 hours until their competition. So he does the only sensible thing – surrenders and joins the team. Within minutes the two bags are empty, and popcorn is scattered all over his bed and floor. When the bags are empty, the boys scoop up handfuls of the weapon from the floor, and the popcorn war continues until they all are rolling around, clutching their stomachs aching from laughing too much.

The boys leave with a promise to help him find a vacuum cleaner the next day, and after changing his salty, messy sheets, Kurt can finally go to bed. He's almost fallen asleep when his phone alerts him of an incoming text.

_Oh, you were right. There's nothing wrong with your bum._


	16. Niff

**Author's note: Thank you for all your lovely reviews and feedback on my story. **

**I thought this chapter would be Sectionals, but the boys needed to talk, so...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

* * *

Kurt never answers the last text from Blaine, because honestly, what can he say? Everything's so blurry. Are they friends? Being friends is great, because Blaine is a wonderful boy Kurt can't imagine not having in his life, even though it isn't even two months since they met. Or are they anything more? Are they flirting, are there a mutual crush, are they approaching something more?

Kurt sighs in frustration, tossing in his bed. He woke up before the alarm went off, but he wants to absorb the last feelings of comfort and heat from his bed before he has to get up. His inconclusive thoughts about Blaine are anything but comfortable, though. The text about his bum is flirty, right? And the text he got after the party about his body being beautiful, that's flirting as well, right? Or is it just Blaine being supporting friend and trying to strengthen Kurt's self confidence? If that's his mission, he might succeed. Kurt saved both those texts from Blaine, and has already reread them several times. Blushing each time. But why does Blaine write such forward texts, and why doesn't he ever say things like that directly to him? Is he ashamed of him? Is Blaine hiding him in some way?

Kurt turns around on his stomach, and screams in his pillows. Why can't he be like Puck or Santana? Why can't Kurt be the kind of guy who flirts openly and predatorily, who manages to make the object of his feelings know without doubt that he wants him? Why does he have to be so awkward, insecure, hesitant, uncertain and inexperienced? Why does he have to make this so difficult? Why didn't he struggle like this with Finn?

Because this is different, Kurt's second voice explains to him. Because Blaine means too much to jeopardize anything. Because losing Blaine is unbearable.

"Patience," Kurt whispers into his pillow. If this ever leads to anything more, it'll solve itself, right? Don't rush anything, don't push it, don't force this to be more than a wonderful friendship if that's all it can be. Just enjoy the ride, he says to himself, not for the first time.

A knock on his door relieves him from his miserable confusion. He stumbles out of his bed, tip toeing over all the popcorn towards the door while stretching his arms in the air, trying to get rid of any leftover sleepiness and tension.

What meets him on the other side of the door surprises him.

"I'm no morning person, and cleaning my room is so not my top priority before I've had at least two cups of coffee."

Nick's thrilling laughter makes him smile.

"I wanted to find the janitor before classes sucked it out of my memory, and it would be more difficult to find a vacuum'er after dinner," he says, pointing at the monstrous next to him.

"Oh thank you, that's awfully kind of you, Nick," Kurt smiles, and steps away from the door to let Nick in.

"Oh my gosh, your floor is a horrible mess!" Nick exclaims as he enters.

"It's as you left it last night," Kurt shrugs. Inwardly he's completely grossed out; he doesn't like this kind of mess at all.

"Do you need any help getting ready? I have nothing more I need to do before breakfast," Nick says, pulling at his uniform blazer.

"Oh, that would be great," Kurt sighs with relief. He's been dreading the morning routines with Blaine today, fearing it would be awkward and embarrassing after the last text. He can't risk thinking about Blaine checking out his ass while said boy buttons up his shirt.

"I'll take a quick shower, and then I need some help with buttons and the tie."

"That's fine. Do you have your English book here, or in the locker?"

"It's on my desk. Feel free to use whatever you want," Kurt points to his school books, and discreetly removes the note with Nick's name to hide the evidence of him being Secret Santa. No point spoiling the fun.

An hour later, two well-dressed boys in uniform leave Kurt's room to have breakfast.

"I thought you'd want to wait for Blaine?"

"I'm quite sure he knows were the dining hall is," Kurt chuckles.

"Yeah, of course, but you always arrive together."

"And today I go with you."

"Is anything wrong between the two of you? Did anything happen after we left yesterday?"

Kurt fights off a blush when he thinks about the text.

"No, I just want to be less dependent on him. It would be nice to have more friends than just him," he says a bit awkward, getting the feeling he's throwing himself at Nick.

"Aaw, that's too sweet, Kurt. You seem like an awesome guy, and I know for sure there are a lot of us who want to know you better. We've just given you a bit space so you can settle down and get a bit used to Dalton first, you know. But both Jeff and I have talked about you, wanting to make plans to do something together. The movie invite yesterday was great!"

Kurt isn't able to fight off the blush Nick's praising words produce.

"Thank you…"

"You really shouldn't have to thank us for being curious about the new kid, and appreciate what we've gotten to know so far. Some of us kind of knew you before you transferred as well," Nick winks.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asks as they fill their trays with breakfast.

"Our dear mister Anderson may have gushed about this adorable spy he was befriending. Or dating, we're not quite sure."

"Neither am I…" Kurt mumbles, waiting for Nick to finish so they can find a table.

"Well, you may not go on outings you mutually know is a date, but I think you're both on the track of something."

"May I…" Kurt hesitates, not sure how to approach the topic. Nick nods encouragingly.

"May I ask you something personal?" Kurt almost whispers.

"Of course, Kurt," Nick answers enthusiastically.

"How did you and Jeff meet? Or, I guess you met here, but how did you end up together?"

The sound of Nick's eager laughter worries Kurt. Had he been too nosey?

"Oh my God, you want me to gush and reminisce about the blooming love of Niff? YES! I'd love to, but we don't have enough time now, honestly, I can not use short and few words on that affair. Are you doing anything after practice today?"

"I have to iron my uniform and pack for the weekend, but nothing else," Kurt says, pleased he hasn't offended Nick.

"Perfect, I'll come over to your room. You can pack and I can brag about my Jeff," Nick snickers.

* * *

Without the gavel, it takes some time for the Council to calm down the room. It's as if they have less respect for Wes without the piece of wood. Or maybe it's just jittery nerves before tomorrow's competition. But there's no denying the boys are being more loud, unfocused and goofy than usual. It's a sharp whistle and a pointed look from Blaine that finally silence the room. It makes Kurt wonder why Blaine isn't in the council.

"Dear Warblers, in today's rehearsal we'll pretend it's competition day, and run through our set as if this is our only chance to impress the judges. Find your formation for the first number, gentlemen."

The run through goes perfectly, and everyone's ecstatic.

"OK, remember clean shirts, make sure you don't have any spots on your ties, polish your shoes, and do not oversleep tomorrow! The bus leaves at ten AM, sharp." The Council gives each and everyone a pointed stare to make sure their message is coming trough.

As soon as they're dismissed, Nick bolts from his seat and jumps in front of Kurt.

"Gushing time!" he exclaims happily. He blows a kiss in Jeff's direction, before pulling Kurt with him.

Kurt hasn't had time to be in his room since this morning. The day has been filled with lessons, meals, studying in the library and rehearsal. He immediately notices something's off when he opens his door, but he isn't able to put his finger on it.

"Where did the popcorn go?"

Oh, that's it. His floors are back to their usual spotless state, and the vacuum cleaner is nowhere to be seen.

"I don't know, I haven't been here since we left together. Does Dalton have some kind of cleaning staff or could the janitor have done it?"

"Of course we have cleaning staff who take care of all the common areas. But the rooms are our responsibility, so they don't go there without being asked, if we need help with difficult stains or whatever."

"Huh. Oh well, I've had worse break-ins. Let me find the iron and a bag, and you can start telling me everything you want about your darling boyfriend."

Kurt doesn't want to know about their dating history and relationship just to get to know Nick better. He also wants to see if he can catch any ideas and tips on how to interpret and approach Blaine. He doesn't trust the inbreeding the New Directions are doing. How can you take relationship advice from someone who cheat, change partners within the blink of an eye, and never manage to stay together for more than a couple of months? Except Tina and Mike, they are pulling it through; maybe he should have a boy talk with Tina as well. But then he may have to tell her about Blaine… And he wants his friends to keep acting normal around Blaine and not destroy anything by them being… themselves.

Nick has settled down in Kurt's bed, legs resting up along the wall, and head pillowed comfortably on Kurt's throw cushions.

"I think I told you I was a mid semester transfer, just like you and Blaine?" Nick begins.

Kurt nods. He remembers. He also remembers Nick mentioning he had been hurt and had problems at school, but he doesn't bring that up. It's a story for some other time, if ever.

"March next year I've been here two years. I was so angry when I first transferred. I felt like I had to abandon my friends, and it felt so unfair I had to be the one who flew when those bastards didn't get more than a short suspension."

Kurt nods again to show he's listening while ironing his shirt. The feelings Nick describes are all too familiar.

"But it was OK, you know, because I wasn't safe, and I needed to survive high school and just get on with my life."

They share a look then. Kurt wonders how bad it got, how literally Nick struggled to survive.

"I met Jeff fairly quick after I came here. He approached me after the first class we shared, and he simply stated I was new. He walked me to all my classes, found me when classes were over, sat with me in the classes we shared, invited me to join him for lunch, introduced me to his friend, made me audition for the Warblers, helped me with homework, initiated things to do after school… He helped me settle in and integrate."

"He seems like an angel, doing all that for you."

"He was. He is. I was so hurt and just wanted to shout a big 'fuck you' to everybody, and I know I was a real bitch the first two weeks. I shouted and yelled, cried and cursed. I tried to ignore him, reject him in any way possible. I just wanted to sit alone in my room with my anger."

"He must have been quite persistent to become your friend, then," Kurt smiles, and tries to imagine Nick throwing a fit.

"I'm forever grateful he didn't give up on me. Eventually my hurt was replaced with anger, and I wanted to fight back. I wanted to prove that there's nothing wrong with being gay, I wanted to prove I can have a wonderful life _because_ I am gay. And I guess I had to prove to _myself_ that I am gay and it is worth everything. I didn't exactly have any big gay experiences or adventures during _public school_," Nick snorts. His disdain for his old school is obvious, and Kurt can easily relate.

"Yeah, so I started flirting with him as if I got paid to do so. It was so, so obvious and I was so, so bad at it. I had no experience, but was so determined, so I think I used all the clichés in the book. But I got my point through, though." Nick laughs at himself and his poor flirting skills, and Kurt chuckles while preparing to steam his pants for tomorrow.

"In April we lost Regionals, but I couldn't care less. I was welcomed in Warblers, I felt like part of something, I was beginning to make friends, my scars and bones had healed, and I honestly felt good. But I was still angry, though. So I drank too much on the consolation party the Council hosted."

Kurt quirks an eyebrow, feeling pretty sure were this is heading. Alcohol, flirting and anger? Seems like the average high school disaster.

"I'm actually ashamed of what happened," Nick continues, as if he can read Kurt's mind. "I wasn't exactly sober. I'm not even sure about the details, but at least Jeff and I made out in one of the couches. At some point we hid away in some dark hallway, and sucked each other off."

Evidently, Kurt wasn't as prepared for that outcome as he thought, and chokes on the water he is drinking. Nick just laughs, and jumps up to offer the Heimlich manoeuvre. Kurt waves an OK, and Nick sits down on the office chair, twirling around.

"I guess you now would expect some kind of walk of shame, right?" Nick laughs and winks, so Kurt nods and smiles back.

"I woke up in Jeff's arms, in his bed, feeling really hung over. He was so sweet and caring, and helped me as I puked and my head drummed. At some point I asked why he wasn't sick, and do you know what he answered?"

Kurt doesn't say anything, he interprets Nick's question as a dramatic flare to the story, and just looks at him expectantly, stopping his ironing for a moment.

"He told me he had been drinking fruit punch all evening. Kurt, he was sober and still did those things with me!"

"Wait, so he gave you a blowjob and let you blow him, fully conscious about what he was doing?" Kurt blushes slightly, not used to having those words coming out from his mouth.

"Exactly! So once my hangover was cured, we kind of repeated the performance, and it was so much better when not drunk. I remember thinking this is so good it's worth everything. This is why I'm gay, this is awesome!"

Nick stops twirling the chair, and leans his face on his hands.

"God, I was stupid…"

"Umm… Wasn't it good anyway?" Kurt asks awkwardly, because he has to say something, but what is he supposed to add to the conversation as a blushing virgin – literally?

"Oh God yes, the sex was amazing. Still is," Nick winks. "We continued for a long time to meet up for sex, and it really helped me with anger issues. I got to blow out some steam," Nick laughs out loud. "I got to manifest my sexuality, I got to be what I had been taunted for, but feel good about it. Blowing a guy in the library bathroom in a free period is pretty much as gay as it gets."

"But you are more to each other than sex today?"

"Yes, we are," Nick says softly, and Kurt can almost see the hearts in his eyes.

"We were pretty obvious and overtly with our flirting, and didn't hide it. Everybody in the Warblers knew about us, and I think they expected us to officially be a couple for a long time. But we were just fooling around like maniacs, having fun and exploring. We even almost got caught a couple of times. It was as if I was erasing all the bullying with sex."

"What changed?"

"Summer vacation," Nick says easily and without hesitation. "We didn't see each other for more than two months, but spent a lot of time talking on the phone, and became really good friends. I felt restless, stressed and my anger was building up again as I ran into some of my bullies. I couldn't make myself have sex with anyone else, and it made me think. Long story short, when we came back to school again, we decided that as close friends who enjoy having sex, we should try a romantic relationship as well."

"And I assume it turned out OK?" Kurt smirks.

"We love each other," Nick sighs dreamily.

"You're adorable together, it looks like you're still in the honeymoon phase."

"And I hope it'll last forever," Nick exhales, still with hearts in his eyes.

"Much later Jeff told me he had fallen for me the first moment he laid his eyes on me. He was too shy to ask me out, so he settled with all our flirting and sex, because then he got me in some way. Would you believe the irony? He wasn't shy when he jumped my bone, but he couldn't find the courage to take me out on a date."

"That is quite ironic," Kurt replies. "But I think I can understand. It was probably easier to continue doing what you already did, because he knew you wanted that. If he didn't know whether you wanted something else or not, he could risk losing what he already had."

Nick nods in agreement, and plops down in Kurt's bed again.

"I guess there's some logic to it. I'm so lucky I met him. My parents discussed moving to Los Angeles, hoping it would give me a safer high school experience. But in the end they didn't want to leave everything behind, and Dalton made it possible for them to stay. I've always feared I'd become some kind of a slut if I had ended up in LA, sleeping around with anybody. Instead I met Jeff, and although we started out in the wrong end and spent any available moment in each others pants, it was still safe and stable. We haven't gone all the way, though." Nick blushes by his admission, and Kurt thinks it's the first time he's seen him blush during his gushing.

"You haven't?" Kurt isn't able to hide his surprise.

"We started out acting like bunnies, so it's nice to still have something new to explore together. Besides, we want to make it special, and not something rushed during a lunch break or while a roomie is in the library."

"That I can understand," Kurt smiles. "But you have roomies? I realize I haven't been in other rooms yet but mine and Blaine's."

"Oh yes, most of us share a double room. You got a single because you came in the middle of a semester. I got a single when I first came as well, but when I came back after summer I had a room mate. If I were you, I would expect the same to happen to you next year."

"But why does Blaine still live in a single room? He didn't transfer this semester, did he?"

"No, he didn't. His room is a perk for the president of the school council."

"Oh… I didn't know he is."

"Blaine is like the perfect student – aces all his classes, lead singer, president, popular among _all_ the students and teachers, excels in sports. With all his meetings, papers, solo practices and achievements I think he deserve living on his own. Or, I think no one deserves having to share a room with The Blaine Madness," Nick laughs.

"How does he have the time and energy to everything?" Kurt furrows his eyebrows.

"That's Blaine for you. But Kurt, don't be intimidated by that. He's still just a boy, like you and me, trying to find his way to adulthood, wanting to be happy."

Kurt again thinks about how he really doesn't know that much about Blaine. If he doesn't even know he's student president, what else has he managed to overlook or ignore? Kurt makes a solemn promise to do his best to get to know the boy better. His crush, infatuation or whatever he should call it is probably based on finally meeting a gay guy who shows him attention, who helped and helps him, and lends him a shoulder. That's not enough to base a friendship or a relationship on. Kurt needs to get to know the real Blaine.

"Are you going to burn that shirt, Kurt?"

"Oh shit!" Kurt jumps away from the ironing board, and scrutinizes his shirt. Luckily no damage is done.

"Thanks. I guess I zoned out a bit there…"

Nick laughs, and moves around in the bed. He settles down closer to the wall, and pats the space next to him. Kurt double checks the iron is shut off before he lies down.

"I may not know the details about what happened – but knowing how much time Blaine spent with you and you transferring at the time you did tell me enough. Even though things seems rough, sad, unfair and difficult it's possible to be happy again, Kurt." Nick takes Kurt's hand. "I'm so happy with Jeff, and I can't wait to see all the other pieces of my life come together as well. I wish all of that to happen for you too. We'll make it, Kurt. We'll show them all, and we'll have fabulous lives when we get out of Ohio."

The boys turn their heads toward each other and smile.

"Yeah," Kurt agrees. "Anything has to be better after this."


	17. Sectionals

**As usual, thank you to everybody who reads, leave a review, add this to their favourites or in other ways appreciate my work. I hope this chapter won't disappoint you either.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but my birthday is coming up, so who knows how the future disclaimers will turn out?**

* * *

"Kurt? Kurt, are you there? I swear to Apollo you are in all kinds of trouble if you don't show any signs of life right this moment!"

Kurt snickers at the sound of David's frantic voice and thunderous banging on the door. He stalls for a couple of minutes, enjoying the rare possibility to wind up the otherwise calm and collected David.

"Well, good morning to you too, David, to what do I owe the honour?" Kurt smiles exaggeratedly to the Council member.

David huffs and brushes past Kurt to get into his room.

"I am here on behalf of the Warblers' Council to make sure all of our members are awake and ready for competition day – and won't be late for the bus."

"David, it isn't even nine o' clock yet, the bus leaves in more than an hour, there's no stress. Besides, have you ever seen me oversleep and miss a class?"

"No…" David admits sullenly.

"No, you haven't. So I won't miss a bus that leaves one and a half hour later than first class begins."

"I don't take anything for granted today. Have you packed everything you need? Shoes ready? Do you have the music sheets?" David looks so worried, and spins around in the room as if he's looking for shoe polish and microphones. It's quite amusing.

"Yes, yes and yes," Kurt laughs. If this had been Rachel, Kurt would have been fuming. But when it comes from David, it's almost kind of… endearing. The thought makes him laugh more, reminded of when David called him that when he was caught spying.

"Do you have everything you need; is there anything we can do?"

"David, calm down. I've had a healthy breakfast, I drank some hot tea to sooth my vocal chords, my uniform is pressed and safe in a garment bag, I brought an extra shirt, I've showered and my bag is packed. I only have my skin care routine and hair left, so I can glow on stage and thrill the audience during my solo," Kurt winks.

"If you're sure, I'll go check on the next person on my list. The Council split the Warblers among us, so I'm your nanny all day," David threatens laughingly.

"If Blaine's on your list, he's in the shower."

"Ah, excellent," David beams, and heads for the bathroom.

"Blaine, my man, you have exactly one hour before you have to be onboard the bus," he says as he enters the room

An angry growl interrupts David's further lecture, Kurt can hear the sound of splashing, and then David bursts out laughingly from the bathroom in a semi wet t-shirt.

"What's wrong with you?"

Blaine with a towel around his waist and lather in his hair slides into the room on wet feet. Kurt freezes, completely unable to remove his eyes.

"David Warbler, do I need to remind you how I saved your ass and dragged you out of bed in time for the bus last year because you had been rehearsing lyrics all night? You do not need to babysit me, and you most definitely do not need to interrupt my shower!"

"Oh man, I didn't know I was interrupting any shower activities," David actually giggles and wiggles his eyebrows. "You have to lock your door if you want any _privacy_, you know," he winks.

"I was showering, you know, to get clean," Blaine blushes. "Besides, Kurt knew I was in the shower, and nobody else is supposed to be in _our_ bathroom," he glares at David.

"It's so adorable how you talk as if you already live together," David chuckles. "Anyway, hurry up with your shower and make yourself pretty. I'll go see if Nick and Jeff can unwrap themselves from each other long enough to join us. The Fab Five will reunite in the bus at ten AM, be there or be square. Bye bye, Kurt!"

Kurt returns the greeting with a high pitched squeal, and Blaine almost gives himself a whiplash as he spins around.

"Oh… You're here…" He proves for Kurt he's able to blush down his torso.

Kurt simply nods, matching Blaine's hue, and eventually manages to focus his eyes on the door beside Blaine instead of his chest. His very tan, well defined chest.

"I'll…"

"Relax Blaine, you've seen me like that, it was about time you returned the favour," Kurt laughs strained when he finally gets his vocal chords to cooperate. It takes all of his will power and stubbornness to talk with some ease in his voice.

"You're right," Blaine chuckles equally strained, and secures the towel with both hands. He almost stumbles in the door as he walks backwards towards the shower again.

Kurt exhales slowly the air he'd been holding, while he thinks about glaciers and icebergs.

* * *

"You ready to get to the bus?" Blaine asks as he carefully enters Kurt's room. He's now wearing red jeans, a white shirt, a black cardigan and bowtie.

"I'll just pack my laptop, then we can go," Kurt answers, and unplugs the charger. "I see you chose civilian clothes today as well."

"Yeah, you've reminded me how nice it can be to be out of uniform," he laughs.

"And Wes won't throw a fit?"

"Both of his soloists are out of uniform, I don't think he'll do much on competition day."

Kurt locks his door and they find their way to the parking lot.

"Hey Kurt?" Blaine stops him before they get to the bus, carefully tugging at Kurt's sleeve. Kurt turns around and smiles at his friend who suddenly seems so nervous and uncertain.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to be indecent, but I was so focused on yelling at David."

"Not a problem, Blaine, just not what I had expected," Kurt answers slyly.

"Oh…" Blaine's last sign of a smile falters, and he looks down his own body. "I've kind of stopped hoping for a growth spurt, so this is what I'm stuck with."

Blaine looks so sad and hurt, and Kurt doesn't understand it. What is he talking about? What just happened? What did he think Kurt meant? Is he..?

"Blaine, what…?"

"Kurt, Blaine, will you move your sweet asses over here and join us for Sectionals?" Wes bellows from the parking lot.

"We're in trouble!" Blaine sing-songs, and grabs Kurt arm, yanking him off to the bus.

"Calm down, Blaine. Hidden gavel, remember?" Kurt smirks, but laughs as they run towards a possibly angry Council.

* * *

The Dalton bus is a comfortable and spacey vehicle. The seats are soft and roomy, and you don't get squished if the person in front of you lays down their seat. The air condition is of superb quality, which Kurt really appreciates. He usually gets a sore throat if he sits close to air condition for too long, because the draft is too strong.

Kurt is fascinated to see that the Warblers are travelling by their own, without any adult supervision from school. They have a driver, but otherwise it's only the Council to keep control over the boys. The administration must really trust them, Kurt thinks. He's relaxing in a double seat, legs resting over the armrest towards the aisle, iPod in his ears, and sunglasses pierced on his nose so no one will notice if he happens to doze off. He's just tucked his phone back in his pocket, after reading good luck-text from every single member of New Directions. He really appreciates it. Some of them even expressed their regrets they can't be among the audience and cheer him on. The bus is taking them two hours further away from Lima, so he never expected anyone to travel four hours one way to listen to three songs, but the sentiment is appreciated.

Kurt skims through the latest _Vogue_, but he's too excited to read, and tucks it back in his satchel. A mild bumping to his feet lifts his gaze to the boy sitting across the aisle, mirroring his position, and gently kicking Kurt's feet.

"May I borrow it?" Blaine asks, nodding to Kurt's satchel.

"Why sure!" Kurt removes his sunglasses, and bends over to give Blaine the magazine.

"Thank you," the other boy smiles softly.

Kurt secures the sunglasses firmly in front of his eyes again, head resting against the window and tilted towards the empty seats behind Blaine, but his eyes are fixed on the boy. With amusement he watches Blaine's various expressions as he reads the articles and studies the pictures. Kurt almost has to sit on his hands to tame his curiousness. He wonders what makes Blaine frown, smile, narrow his eyes, bite his lip, chuckle and shake his head. Kurt wants to know more about what Blaine enjoys and likes. Kurt decides he'll ask Blaine to read the next _Vogue_ together with him.

* * *

The bus stops in front of an old, worn down community centre. 15 curious Warblers jump out of the bus, scurrying to the entrance.

"I thought we would be competing in a school?" Jeff says curiously.

"This is where the hosting glee club gets their education, but we'll explain more when we get to our green room," Thad says. Wes and David are shaking hands with a middle aged woman, who beckons the Warblers to follow her down some squeaking stairs and further down a grey and sad looking corridor.

"This is your green room, sirs. I'll be back ten to one, to escort you to the stage for your final rehearsal. The men's room is across the hall, and you find fruit and soft drinks in here," she says and points to a table in the back of their green room. It is of a decent size for the 15 boys, and a couple of mismatching couches and chairs offer enough seats for them. A couple of mirrors are lined up against the wall, and a harbouring on antique phone hangs tilting on the wall.

"Just dial nine if you need anything, and someone on the other end will get in touch with you," she says, pointing to the phone.

The woman then leaves the Warblers on their own.

"You heard the lady!" David yells over the loud noise of 12 agitated non-Council boys. "We have…" he stops to check his wrist watch. "…25 minutes to warm up before we're on. We get 30 minutes on the stage for sound check and synchronize the lighting for our performances. We may do slight adjustments when we see the size and shape of the stage, but we don't want to alter too much on a competition day."

"Do we need to be in uniforms for that?" Sean asks.

"No, we don't want to risk you soiling the shirts during lunch, so don't change until it counts," Wes warns them. Most of the Warblers travel in their regular clothes today – even the Council is dressed more laidback, with grey slacks and Dalton hoodies.

The unruly bunch of boys turns to well oiled choir machinery within three seconds, and David leads the Warblers through various exercises to warm up both bodies and voices.

* * *

The stage is nothing spectacular. It's decorated with two huge floral arrangements in the front, and big candelabras with gold coloured candles surround the stage. The candles aren't lit yet, though. The light equipment seems old and modest. Microphones hang down from the ceiling. It's nothing spectacular, but at least it'll be equally modest and low tech for all participants, and the singing and dancing are bound to be more important than the show glamour factor. Choir risers on wheels are pulled unto the stage as the Warblers arrive.

"OK guys, we're focusing on this as a dry run for sound, lights and the stage – but please focus, and perform as if this is done in front of an audience, OK?" Thad urges the boys.

They get in position, and Blaine shouts out the first "oh yeah!" He jumps down to the stage floor to sing and dance in front of them. The rest of the Warblers side step on the risers. The first verse draws to its end. That's the moment when Nick, Jeff, and Kurt jump down from their positions to dance more energetically on the stage. As they land, the riser rolls backwards. The remaining Warblers lose their balance, and Trent falls down backwards from the tallest level. Kurt and Wes run behind the riser to check if Trent is hurt, and the other Warblers get back on their feet.

"What the hell?" Nick yells out in the dark room, knowing the technicians are in the back with their control panels. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"Hey love, calm down, I'm sure this was an accident," Jeff coos, embracing his boyfriend from behind.

A young man with glasses comes running to stage, and kneels by one of the wheels. He fidgets with something, and repeats the action with the other wheels.

"I'm so sorry, the breaks are on now," he apologizes with a bent head, looking sincerely sorry. "And we won't forget to secure the risers afterwards either," he hurriedly adds, catching some of the glances from the Dalton boys.

"OK, from the top!"

During the bridge, the boys are supposed to step hard on the ground to add a drumming beat to their sound. It turns out the risers can't take it, and adds a disturbing, ugly squeaky noise to their performance. The Council quickly decides that all of the Warblers have to perform the last chorus on the floor instead.

Kurt completely forgets he has a solo, so he almost misses his cue, and feels as if he's one step behind throughout the entire song. His dance moves in front of his team mates are clumsy and stumbling. He forgets several words. He just wants to hide under a big rock and die.

He sighs and metaphorically crawls back to his spot among the boys for their last number, and Blaine pats him gently on the back, smiling encouragingly.

"It doesn't count," he quickly mouths, before starting on _Raise your glass_.

Halfway into the song, Thad has to stop them.

"Guys, we're so off pitch it hurts." He provides a tuning fork from his pocket, and delicately knocks it against the risers. All the Warblers hum the given note, on pitch.

"That was an F. Now give me your opening note."

The boys hum a pitch perfect harmony.

"Was that so difficult? I didn't think so. From the top!"

This time, they sound much better. But it turns out the stage isn't as deep as Warblers own rehearsing room, so the boys keep knocking into each other. A quick time out to discuss adjustments, and they can try again. The dance isn't as advanced and complicated as they'd like to, but it's all the stage will allow for today.

Their thirty minutes for preparations are done, but at least they know the technicians will give them correct lightning, and the microphones hanging down from the ceiling gives a satisfying volume.

Back in the green room every Warbler is quiet, looking confused and frustrated.

"Well, that was… interesting," Jeff states.

"Are you OK?" Kurt whispers to Trent, who had complained about his back after he fell off the choir stand.

"I'll just keep moving so I don't get stiff and sore until we're done," he whispers back, smiling slightly.

"OK guys, we've now proved to ourselves we can give a really crappy performance. I hope this got all our nerves and awkwardness out of the system. Afterwards we'll go on that stage and prove what we really are good for!" Wes encourages the boys. They all cheer and agree.

"The show starts at four o' clock, so you have more than two hours to grab some lunch, change into uniforms and do whatever. We're last on stage, but will watch the other performances from the audience. There are reserved seats for us, but we meet in the lobby a quarter to four so the Council knows everybody's present. Any questions?" David asks.

There's no café or food serving in the community centre, except for the fruit in the green room.

"You guys up for finding some lunch?" Jeff and Nick ask, coming up to Kurt and Blaine.

"On one condition," Blaine states. "We are under no circumstances allowed to talk or think about what happened the last half hour."

Everybody agree, and the four boys hit the streets. Wes is seen hurrying in the opposite direction, muttering something about finding a new gavel to get them out of their curse.

Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt's shoulder.

"I can hear the gears in your head working," he says softly. "Stop it. Forget it. Move on. I know how good you are."

"I didn't realize how nervous I am. I'm going to screw everything up for you guys," Kurt whispers, inwardly cursing his easily moistened eyes.

"First of all – there's no such thing as 'you guys'. It's an 'us', and you're a part of us. There's plenty of time before we go on stage, so I'll simply have to make you relax in due time," he smiles.

"Do you know any legal methods? 'Cause I believe you'll need some strong artillery."

"I have my ways," Blaine smirks, successfully making Kurt laugh.

The four boys decide to try an Italian place. It's one of the first restaurants they spot, but they don't want to risk getting lost and not return to the community centre in time. The place is quite ordinary and sparsely decorated, but everything is clean and spotless. Kurt notices the flower decorations are real, and not the fake substitutes some places choose. He's pleased with that. The waiter leads the boys to a candle lit table with four chairs. The restaurant is half full, and it seems most of the other guests are other participants for Sectionals.

The menu offers a vide range of possibilities, and the boys happily discuss what looks tempting and not. Nick and Jeff decide to order two different pizzas and share both, Blaine has a craving for lasagne, and Kurt wants to try a dish of pasta with seafood.

When the waiter brings them their food, Jeff asks if she would please take their picture with his phone.

"Oh, the picture turned out really good. I'd love to have it as a memory as well," Kurt beams.

"Me too!" Blaine chimes, so Jeff forwards the picture as a message to the other boys' phones.

"So Kurt, have you solved the little mystery from yesterday?" Nick asks between two mouthfuls of thin, deliciously crisp pizza.

"I've actually forgotten all about it."

"What mystery?" Blaine asks curiously.

"I brought Kurt a vacuum cleaner in the morning, and when we came back to his room after rehearsal it was gone, and so was all the popcorn."

Blaine's happy laughter in response surprises the boys.

"That would have been me," he grins cheekily.

"You didn't have to do that," Kurt interjects. "If anyone but me should have cleaned my room, it should have been Wes and David who threw the first fist."

"As if they had time for anything like that yesterday. Besides, I came by your room to see if you were ready for breakfast, but you were already gone. I saw the vacuum'er, and figured I could get rid of the popcorn. It didn't take any longer than the endless time I wait for you to finish styling your hair every single morning anyway," Blaine smirks.

Kurt glares at him.

"It must be a rare talent, to be able to make people want to hug you and slap you at the same time."

"I believe that would be called spanking," Jeff winks.

* * *

"Kurt!"

Kurt scans the lobby, trying to find the source of the voice. It's crowded with choirs and audience, and difficult to spot one person in the mass of people. Luckily all the Warblers are in uniform, so they manage to find each other. They're just waiting for the Council, who had to attend a briefing with the other choir representatives and the judges.

"Kiddo, finally, we've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Dad?" Kurt shouts and throws himself at his father, giving him a long hug. It's the first time he's seen him after he moved to Dalton.

"Hey kid, it's good to see you," Burt chokes in his ear.

"Why are you here? I though you would pick me up at Dalton this evening."

"And miss my son's competition? What kind of father would that make me?"

"Of course we had to cheer you on," a second voice chimes in, and now Kurt sees Carole's there as well. He's quick to give her a hug as well. Behind her, her tall son towers, smiling goofily.

"Hey little brother, mind if I watch you compete?"

"You're not here to spy, are you?" Kurt chuckles.

"Oh, you know me, the most incognito spy in the world," Finn laughs.

"Yeah, I know you – and I know Rachel," Kurt winks back, before giving his step brother a warm hug.

"Mum let me skip school to be here," Finn explains, and Kurt has to blink a couple of times to make them dry again, and hugs his step brother even tighter. Finn is then swallowed by a peck of eager Warblers who recognize him from the party.

"Dad, Carole, I would like you to meet some of my friends," Kurt offers, stepping back to the Warblers. He introduces them to Blaine, Nick and Jeff, and they make polite conversation until Thad tells everyone to find their seats.

Three unfamiliar judges are introduced, and then the competition can commence.

"What is this?" Kurt whispers as the curtains reveal a choir of old people.

"This would be The Hipsters. They are senior citizens who have returned to finish their high school diploma. They use the community centre as base for their education, that's why we're here," Thad explains carefully, sitting next to Kurt.

"Well, this should be interesting, I guess they have a lot of… experience," Blaine adds diplomatically from the other side of Kurt.

The old choir starts with _The Living Years_.

"I think this is a fairly suitable, clever choice," Blaine praises them in a low voice.

The next song, however, garnishes a completely different reaction.

As the words to _Forever Young_ fill the auditorium, Kurt can see Blaine try to prevent his body from shaking in laughter. He grabs Blaine's hand, and squeezes it hard.

"Blaine, I will pinch you with my well manicured nails if you don't control yourself," he hisses. Kurt tries to give him one of his bitch-glares, but he can't look too long at Blaine if he doesn't want to crack up as well.

An all too familiar tone from a church organ introduces their last song, and Kurt and Blaine simultaneously slides down in their seats.

"No way… I used to like Queen," Kurt sobs. Blaine rests his head on Kurt's shoulder, and tries to shush him through his own laughter.

When the cute, wrinkled ladies sing the words "Who wants to live forever?" both boys have to fight against their own bodies. Blaine actually bites on the collar of Kurt's blazer, and he gets goose bumps from Blaine's puffed breath on his skin. Blaine puts his hand in front of Kurt's mouth to muffle his sobbing laughter as well. Kurt really, really hopes no one can see them in the dark auditorium, because this is not dignified and professional Dalton behaviour. But honestly, are The Hipsters for real?

Everybody get up to applaud the performance, but Kurt makes sure to not look at Blaine yet. He's actually quite surprised by Blaine's behaviour. He can't remember ever having seen him so undapper and teenage like. Blaine usually is the epitome of polite and correct gentleman, so to hear and watch him act like that is almost comforting. Maybe Blaine isn't perfect; maybe he's human. Kurt wonders what makes Blaine take down his guard and walls like that.

Aural Intensity is introduced as the next choir.

"They are good," Kurt whispers to Blaine. "They beat the New Direction last year."

"That was last year. Today is a new competition for everybody," Blaine answers as he leans back on Kurt's shoulder, without biting anything this time.

When they are done applauding the performance, all of the Warblers leave the auditorium to get behind the stage. They are up after the third choir, Kurt doesn't catch its name, but it doesn't matter. He has something more important to focus on now.

Kurt stands a bit away from the others, going through the lyrics of _Uprising_ in his head.

"Stop it, you'll only make it worse," Blaine whispers in his ear from behind, and two hands gently massage his shoulders.

"Has anyone ever literally died on stage?" Kurt whispers back. They have to keep it down to not interfere with the performance on stage.

"Are you that nervous?" Blaine rubs his hands up and down Kurt's back, and Kurt isn't convinced that's a relaxing act.

"Please don't judge me. This is the first time I've had a solo in front of a competition audience. I have this nightmare we'll make a repeat of earlier today, or even worse, maybe I suddenly lose my voice. Okay, you can judge me…" Kurt sighs, feeling immature and childish.

"Oh Kurt, you're quite adorkable. The only people that are going to be dying tonight are the people in that audience, because you and I are going to kill this thing." Blaine turns him around to embrace him in a tight hug. "I've always believed in you, and you've always proven you shine the strongest when it's most needed."

"How come you aren't nervous?"

"Because right now you are nervous enough for the both of us."

"Dork…"

"Aww, am I adorkable too?"

"I guess you are," Kurt rolls his eyes, but smiles. He silently enjoys the slight blush on Blaine's cheeks. It's nice to see he's not the only one who can get affected like that by the other's words and actions.

"OK, we're up, let's go."

Kurt grabs Blaine's hand for comfort, and doesn't let go until they are in position on the choir risers – which they double check have its wheels locked. Blaine smiles reassuringly at him as the curtains are lifted.

* * *

They _do_ kill their performance. The stage is a cacophony of 15 extremely happy Blazer clad boys trying to touch the big trophy they've just won.

Blaine has locked his arms around Kurt, a big grin plastered on his face.

"I am so glad I get to say 'I told you so'! You were amazing, Kurt!"

"You're the one to talk, Mister Showstopper. You have the audience eating out of your hand."

"It's a team effort," he shrugs.

"And there's no I in team, I know," Kurt snarks.

"Exactly," Blaine calmly states.

"I should get my bag and find my parents; we have a long drive back home."

"I'll walk you."

Without thinking, Kurt slips his hand in Blaine's. When he realizes what he did, he tenses and panics inwardly from his forward behaviour. Blaine, however, tightens his grip on Kurt's hand slightly, and leads them down the stairs to the green rooms.

A paper with _THE WARBLERS_ written in block letters is glued to a yellow door in the end of the hallway. Two teenage girls are standing in front of the door.

"May we help you, ladies?" Kurt asks as he and Blaine arrive the door to their green room.

The girls blush and giggle, looking at each other, and then at the boys, with big eyes.

"We just wanted to give you these," they say, and hand a folded note to each of the two boys.

"What's this?" Kurt asks, and doesn't notice Blaine's amused smile.

"Our phone numbers. Use them," one of the girls winks.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid we won't be using them," Blaine chuckles and lifts his and Kurt's hands, still holding each other.

"Oh…" the other girl sighs, her bright smile gone. "The best ones always are…"

"Well, I hope you're happy together," the first girl smiles honestly.

"We are," Blaine's eyes shine, and then he suddenly pecks Kurt's temple. Kurt is able to silence his gasp, but not to prevent his blush.

"Oh, look how cute they are," the second girl says to the first. "But let us know if you switch team, deal?"

"I'm afraid I'll always be faithful to my favourite team," Blaine chuckles and caresses Kurt's cheek with his index finger. Kurt tries to still the shiver running up his spine in favour of all the goose bumps erupting on his arms.

The girls wave their goodbyes, and the boys enter the room.

"We've got groupies!" Kurt flails disbelieving.

"Yeah," Blaine chuckles, "it gets less and less amusing each time that happens."

"What, does that happen often to you?" Kurt asks, still disbelief in his voice.

Blaine shrugs and scratches the back of his head.

"Fairly often. For some reason girls find me attractive."

Well, Kurt isn't going to disagree on that.

"I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable, but I've learned that some fan girls don't back off easily. Once I was this close to making out with Wes at _Granny's_, because a girl just wouldn't believe I was honest about being gay. I think she thought she was being rejected or could convert me, or something."

"Aren't you afraid of negative reactions?"

"Even in Ohio, most girls are quite accepting. Or at least they don't show their hate as vividly as our bullies did. I've spent so much time being scared. Lately, I've grown sick and tired of it, and want to claim the same rights everybody else has to show affection in public."

"You're so brave, Blaine," Kurt says with admiration in voice a fan girl worthy. He pulls him in for a warm hug, arms wrapped around his neck.

"A day less busy than today I'll explain why that's the last words for me," Blaine whispers as he puts his arms around Kurt's waist.

"I should get ready to go back home," Kurt eventually sighs, and hesitantly pulls away from the nice hug.

"When you get back to Dalton, we have a duet to rehears," Blaine reminds him. "I'll be looking forward to it."

* * *

During the four hour long car ride back home to the Hudmel residence, Kurt enjoys the tingling sensation on his face from Blaine's lips and finger. His dad, Carole and Finn chatter and ask questions, and Kurt happily participates in a conversation about how much he enjoys Dalton. But he doesn't mention just how happy the tingling makes him feel.

* * *

Kurt lies in his own bed in his old room, and he can hear Burt and Carole's friendly bickering over tomorrow's turkey stuffing. He stares at his phone and an unsent message, debating whether he should send it or not. He typed it after thinking about the entire day. Sure, winning Sectionals was sweet. Ogling Blaine in a towel was hot. The lunch was great, and for a brief moment Kurt had allowed himself to imagine it as a double date, especially when Blaine the noble gentleman pulled out Kurt's chair for him. But the strongest memory is the hurt in Blaine's eyes this morning, when he must have thought Kurt insulted him and his body.

"I'll let the next song decide," Kurt says to nobody, watching the iPod playing from his desk.

The next song is _Taking Chances_.

"Bastard," he whispers, and hits send.

_For what it's worth, your body is gorgeous._

* * *

Songs mentioned:

Mike & the Mechanics – _The Living Years_

Alphaville – _Forever Young_

Queen – _Who Wants To Live Forever_

Maroon 5 – _Misery_

Muse – _Uprising_

P!nk – _Raise Your Glass_

Céline Dion – _Taking Chances_


	18. Thanksgiving

**AN: I expect some may react negatively to the texts - because I choose to write them in regular English, and not use any shortened text-language, slang, or whatever. I do that mainly because English is not my mother tongue, so I feel quite uncomfortable trying to write that kind of English - I want you to understand the texts. Another reason is I always write my own texts with proper and correct grammar, because it's important for me to master my language and use it respectfully. I think Kurt would think much the same way, so his texts are therefore impeccable (or as good as I can write them) in my fiction.**

**Yeah, and I'm not American, so my apologizes if I've made Thanksgiving sound boring or wrong.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any other fun.**

* * *

Kurt enjoys a rare lazy morning, with a long shower and a complete skin care regime. It's a nice change not having to put on the uniform, and Kurt walks down for breakfast slightly overdressed, but he needs to wear some of his regular clothes. Poor clothes must be feeling neglected. The breakfast is a joyous happening, with happy and idly chattering between Carole, Finn, his dad, and himself. Carole had refused his offer last night to get up in time to help her with breakfast, and had claimed he deserved to sleep in after his, quote, wonderful competition performance, unquote.

Kurt has however insisted the entire family takes part in the preparations for their Thanksgiving dinner. It isn't right that Carole do all of the work alone, and even though Kurt enjoys cooking, he thinks all the members of the family should do their share to prepare for a _family holiday_. Finn and Burt had agreed with surprisingly little hesitance or bickering. Maybe they secretly wanted to have as much quality time as possible as a family this weekend, even though Finn was talking about some tournament at Puck's house tomorrow and Burt had mentioned he had an awful lot of paper work to catch up with for the store.

All four of them sit down to watch the football match, although Kurt and Carole sit further away from the TV than the other two. They talk about clothes with soft voices to not disturb the game. More specifically, they talk about candidates for Kurt to wear on the upcoming Christmas ball. A part of Kurt wants to go shopping for a completely new outfit for such an occasion, but with all the exams he has to prepare for, he honestly hasn't got any time for shopping. He has clothes in his wardrobe he hasn't used before, and maybe he can find time to make some adjustments and add his own personal touch? Kurt and Carole narrow the alternatives down to three potential outfits from the clothes they can remember he has, but he'll do a more thorough search in his wardrobe tomorrow for hidden and forgotten treasures. Both Carole and Kurt are excited about his first ball, though, and Carole gushes about it even more than Kurt does. She wishes she could be there to see him, she says, and Kurt has to promise to have a lot of pictures taken.

"Do you have a date for your ball?"

"Well, Blaine and I are going together, but it's just logical. We're doing a duet together, and Dalton isn't really crowded with gay guys lining up for me," Kurt says, not wanting to share his confusion whether he is Blaine's date or just his escort.

"They don't have to line up in miles for you as long as you find the one that counts," Carole smiles. "Blaine, we met him yesterday, didn't we? He's the polite boy with the other solos?"

Kurt smiles amused, of course Blaine would leave an impression as a polite gentleman after just a quick handshake and exchange of pleasantries.

"Yeah, and he's the one who helped me before I transferred," Kurt adds.

"Oh, that's right, I forgot his name is Blaine. I should have known, though. I'm sure you'll sound lovely together. What are you singing?"

"We're actually doing _Baby It's Cold Outside_, and because of Sectionals we haven't had any time to practice, so I haven't got a clue how it'll sound. I'm beginning to freak out, honestly," Kurt admits.

"If New Directions could improvise their set list last year, I'm sure you and Blaine can make that song work within two weeks," Carole smiles reassuringly.

"I hope you're right, Carole. Oh, I almost forgot, I need to use the kitchen tomorrow, I'm making cookies for Nick."

"Oh, Nick? Someone special? Why aren't you going with him to the ball?"

"Carole, you can point your cupid arrows at someone else. You met Nick and Jeff yesterday, remember? They are dating, each other," Kurt laughs.

"I remember, you have a lot of cute boys at your school there, Kurt," Carole winks. "But why the cookies?"

So Kurt explains Carole about the Warblers doing Secret Santa, and cookies being one of the nice things he wants to do for Nick.

"That's a good idea, Kurt, I'm sure he'll appreciate it. I always ate a lot of sweets and junk food before my exams, and I understand next week will be rough."

"Maybe I should make a double batch…" Kurt ponders.

* * *

_Happy Gobble Day, dear Warbler, and thank you for giving it your best yesterday! The Council cordially invites you to a celebratory happening Saturday at seven o' clock in the practice room. RSVP. Wes, David & Thad_

Kurt chuckles at the text – there's no limits to the dapperness a Dalton boy can show, even through text. He yet has to decide when he'll return to Dalton this weekend. He's promised to meet up with some of the girls tomorrow, and it would be nice to spend more time with his family as well, but he really needs to get some studying done. The party invite helps him make a decision. He'll go back to Dalton in time for the party, if not before, depending on when someone can take him. He still isn't allowed to drive, and he longs for the day he can be behind the wheels again. It gives him such a nice sense of freedom and independence. He just didn't realize it until it was taken away from him.

He types an answer confirming he'll be there, and then continues to help Carole finish their meal. It's their first Thanksgiving dinner, and they've tried to incorporate traditions from both families.

The cinnamon crumble custard apple pie needs 30 minutes in the oven to be completed, and Kurt wants it to be served lukewarm with whipped cream, so he'll let it cook while they eat dinner. He's about to make the cream, but is interrupted by an incoming text.

_Dearest Kurt! Although I wish the circumstances had been different, I'm so grateful I met you this year and get to have you as an important part of my life. Blaine_

Blaine never responded to the text Kurt sent last night, and that's quite alright. Kurt likes the seemingly unspoken agreement they have to not comment the too flirty texts and embarrass each other. Although a part of him is curious to how Blaine reacted to that text. He knows how much it affected him to get a text like that from Blaine. Is Kurt able to fluster Blaine in the same way?

This text, however, is the kind of text he has to answer. He's humbled and touched Blaine thinks so highly of him, and it feels good to be important to someone.

_Dearest Blaine! Thank you so much for your sweet words. I feel the same way. I'm so grateful for you. You saved me. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Kurt._

OK, so maybe the texts are a bit cheesy and over the top, but that's exactly how Blaine can be, without acting a part. He's just such a suave and dapper gentleman, uses big words and knows what they mean, and is a man of big declarations. It's more out of character for Kurt to say something like that, but for once he just wants to vent some of the feelings he's hiding for him. If Blaine thinks he's being weird, Kurt can just say he got caught in the seasony mood. After all, a lot of family holidays are all about clichés.

The reply comes shortly after, so the Anderson's can't be seated by their dinner table yet.

_Oh, I think you saved yourself, but I'll gladly walk the journey with you. Will I see you at the Warbler-party on Saturday?_

_That you will._

_Save me a dance?_

_I'll try to squeeze a spot for you in my overcrowded dance card._

_Oh really? I'm flattered._

_As you should be, I'm no floozy who dances with just anybody._

_I'll be the first to defend your honour._

_How chivalrous._

_You should know Dalton boys have impeccable manners._

_Then who do you need to defend me against?_

_Touché._

Kurt looks up from his phone which has vibrated almost constantly the last minutes from the rapid texting between him and Blaine. Carole is grinning at him.

"Is that one of the cute boys from your school?" she winks. Kurt blushes.

"Umm, just Blaine wishing happy thanksgiving, you know?"

"That usually takes one text, not ten," Carole chuckles.

"We got to talk about the party on Saturday to celebrate our win, as well," Kurt says, not lying.

"Oh, so you won't be staying the entire weekend?"

"No, I knew I would go back to Dalton to prepare for my exams, I'll have to see when dad can drive me back, but tomorrow evening or early Saturday."

"We'll make the plans later on. Will you help me set the table, dinner is almost ready."

Kurt takes the napkins and folds them in an intricate pattern.

Thanksgiving dinner is a relaxed, but joyous, meal. The four people who are working on establishing themselves as a new family share and create new memories that evening. They tell each other what they are grateful for, and use the opportunity to reminisce over how much has changed since Kurt introduced Burt to Carole. They try to keep the conversation topics light, but it still feels natural when Finn and Kurt mention some memories of their long lost parents.

They clear the table and do the dishes together, before sitting down as a family to watch a movie. They all think it's strange how fast you can go from strangers to a loving family, but no one questions it. It's just the way it's always supposed to be.

* * *

The next morning Kurt begins on Nick's cookies while he eats breakfast, and coordinates a time for the girls to come and help him choose an outfit for the ball.

The cookies are cooling on a rack when the door bell chimes, and Kurt happily welcomes the girls with open arms and warm hugs.

"So, how come we had to hear from Finn that not only did you win Sectionals, but you had a solo as well?" Rachel asks accusingly once they've gotten shoes and jackets off, and have settled down in Kurt's bed.

Kurt is speechless. He'd actually forgotten to tell them how the competition went. He'd been so distracted by Blaine it didn't occur to him telling them.

"I didn't want to tell you about the solo in case something happened and I didn't sing it," he answers truthfully. He couldn't quite believe the Warblers had let him do a solo in his first competition with them, in such a short amount of time after joining them as well.

"I'm glad someone finally appreciates your talent," Mercedes says and hugs him again. Schuester's tendency to favour Rachel and Finn with all the solos is an ongoing sore spot for the other members of the New Direction.

Tina eggs him to tell everything, so Kurt spends the next thirty minutes gushing about his audition, all the practice, the nerves, the terrible run through, and then the competition itself.

"Do you know if anyone filmed you?" Brittany asks. "I wanna see my dolphin sing."

"All of us were on stage, so I don't know who would have been able to film it," Kurt answers.

"Oh, don't worry. The Ohio Show Choir Committee has people who tape every performance. They have their own Youtube-channel, and at the end of the year they release a DVD with all the numbers."

"Why would anyone buy the DVD if it's available online, for free?" Tina asks.

"I have every DVD," Rachel answers defensively.

"So?" Santana snorts.

"Anyway," Kurt interjects, "how are the preparations for your Sectionals coming up?"

The girls fill him in on their drama, but of course the set list isn't ready yet.

"Will you come watch us? It's next Wednesday," Brittany asks hopefully.

"Oh, I wish I could, but my schedule is crammed with exams and Christmas Ball-preparations," Kurt coos, feeling a rush of excitement filling him as he sees how the girls respond. They instantly brighten and squeal around him.

"A Ball? Are you going to be like Cinderella?" Brittany smiles.

"I guess I will. At least I want to dress up nice, and I've been promised dancing. And that's why you are here – to help me pick an outfit."

"Who's your prince, Kurt?" Brittany looks so expectant at him.

"I don't have a prince, Brittany, but I have good friends who'll dance with me, I'm sure."

"Don't worry, some day your prince will come," she reassures him, and he smiles fondly at her. Even though she gets the princesses mixed up, she's quite cute.

"Tell us more about the ball," Tina asks from inside his closet. She and Mercedes are already going through his clothes.

So Kurt tells them the little he knows about the ball and its traditions. He also mentions the Warblers will do a couple of numbers to entertain the people.

"What are you singing?" Rachel immediately asks.

"I honestly don't know, we've been so busy with Sectionals, so we'll have a look on it the next two weeks. But I know I'll perform _Baby It's Cold Outside_," he smiles mischievously.

"That's a duet!" Rachel bursts out. "You're not going the _Le Jazz Hot_-road again, are you?" she pierces her narrow eyes on him, looking almost disappointed. Kurt knows she's thinking about the Happy-duet they did together. Kurt also knows she's thinking about when he announced his transfer, and how he justified going to Dalton to be safe and happy again.

"No, actually this time I'm doing a duet with a duet partner," Kurt smirks. "I'm singing it with Blaine."

"You've got balls, Hummel! Zizes approves." Lauren had joined the girls, and Kurt didn't mind. She seemed nice enough, and he could admire her forwardness and honesty.

"You tapping that?" Santana bluntly asks, and against his will Kurt blushes.

"What? You think I should _tap_ him on stage during our performance?" he says evasively.

Santana doesn't get to answer, because Kurt's phone interrupts with an incoming call. It's resting on his nightstand, and Brittany is closest, so she answers.

"Hello, are you a voice in my head? … Oh hey, Blaine, I am Brittany. How are you? … I'm fine, I'm listening to Santana and Kurt talking about you and Kurt having sex on the scene."

Kurt literally dives onto his bed to grab the phone from Brittany.

"Hey Blaine, you remember Brittany, right?" he rushes out breathlessly. Blaine laughs affirmatively. "Oh good, so you know how she can _completely misunderstand things_," he sighs hopefully, looking at the girls laughing around him.

"So why did you call, Blaine?" Kurt decides to continue the conversation somewhere else, and leaves his room, giving the girls his best glare to make sure they stay put.

"Yeah right, as if he's not tapping that," Santana drawls.

"We should find a smashing outfit for him to the ball, something that'll make Blaine unable to take his eyes off of him," Tina suggests.

The girls rummage his clothes. They quickly discharge everything in the jeans department. They just won't do for a formal dress code.

Mercedes pulls out the smoking he wore at the recent wedding.

"He looked really handsome in this one," she suggests.

"Yes, but are we going for plain handsome? It's not making a statement, it's not drawing attention. I can only imagine how fed up Kurt is with his uniform, I'd bet anything he'd like to go all out for once," Tina analyzes, knowing how important clothes are to their friend as a way to express himself.

"Why haven't we ever seen Kurt wearing this?" Quinn asks, pulling a hanger out of the closet.

"I guess that would require a special occasion," Rachel states.

"And what could be more special than your first ball, singing with your big fat crush?" Mercedes smirks.

"Blaine isn't fat, has Kurt met someone else? Brittany asks. Kurt could try to keep it under the radar as much as he liked, but it had been obvious for his girls during the party at Dalton that Kurt has fallen for Blaine, and fallen hard.

Kurt chooses that moment to come back to his room, and none of the girls can miss the slight blush on his cheeks.

"What did loverboy want?" Santana asks cockily.

Kurt huffs.

"_Blaine_ wanted to talk about what we'll wear for the ball," he says, emphasizing the boy's name. "He's home rummaging his wardrobe as well."

"So what's he wearing?" Mercedes asks as she looks at the outfit Quinn pulled out, wondering if they can manage to make the boys match.

"It's undecided, but we agreed to skip the regular black suit-thingy," Kurt shrugs.

"Doesn't the pretty boy know how to dress himself?" Lauren asks.

"Of course he does," Kurt huffs, feeling offended on Blaine's behalf. "Sure, he isn't as fashion forward and stylish as I am, but he has his own style and knows what suits him. Which I can't say about many of your boys," Kurt adds with a meaningful glare.

"Our boys? So you admit he's _your_ boy?" Santana laughs, biting her lower lip and wigging her eyebrows.

_Burn_… Kurt blushes.

"We're going together to the ball, so I guess Blaine wanted to see if we could coordinate colours, or something," he tries to shrug it off. It shouldn't hurt so much, being reminded that Blaine in fact _is not_ his boy, should it?

"So it's a date," Rachel states.

"No, it's nothing like that," Kurt says defeated, and the sad tone in his voice makes the girls fall silent, and sit down around him on the bed.

"You know I was the only out kid at McKinley, and I've missed so many of the teenage experiences you take for granted. The flirting, the dates, the kisses, even the quarrels and break ups. We're going as friends, but it'll be nice to go with someone. It'll be nice to have someone to dress up for, someone who'll arrive and leave the ball with me, someone who without doubt will pull out the chair for me because that's how gentlemanly he is, and someone I can pull out the chair for because it'll be nice to do that to someone without them feeling demasculinized or afraid of catching the gay. It'll be nice to go with someone who's promised to dance with me, who has taken dance lessons for years and isn't afraid of leading the dance or being lead by me. It'll be nice to be someone's someone, even just for a night, you know."

Kurt quickly wipes away a traitorous tear, not wanting to make this a pity-party, but it's difficult when all the girls are bundled on top of each other trying to hug him and rub his back comfortingly. Kurt so wishes it was a date, but he's decided to not lull him into a fairytale, but remember Blaine's words about getting the most out of the high school experiences.

"Well then," Quinn eventually says. "We better make sure the ball is as spectacular and special as it can be."

She gets up from the bed and strides over to Kurt's closet.

"This is what you're wearing. Now for shoes…"

* * *

The girls put together a smashing outfit, and they claim Kurt is in no position to object as everything is pulled out of his own closet, and therefore logically he should be fine wearing it. He tries to explain there's such thing as dressing for the occasion. He also tries to explain some of the clothes are _made_ by him, but not necessarily to be _used_ by him. The girls claim the argument invalid, as the clothes clearly fit him, and not some generic model. Secretly, Kurt is thrilled about his outfit, he just doesn't know if he's brave enough to pull it off among people who have mostly seen him in uniform.

It's actually Lauren who finally convinces him to not pack a safer outfit as well.

"Don't you think now is the time to be adventurous? While you're still young?"

So Kurt closes his wardrobe, but adds his sewing kit and some accessories in his weekend suitcase for the final adjustments he has to make.

The girls leave so Kurt can have dinner with his family, but they agree to meet for coffee later in the evening.

* * *

The next morning, Burt drives his son back to Dalton. They get to have a more private talk during the two hour long drive, and Burt is reassured they did the right thing enrolling Kurt to his new school.

"But you let me know immediately if someone's giving you a hard time," Burt says sternly. It isn't a question, it's a request. "I love you, kid, and I miss you. But I want you to be safe. No, I don't want you to be merely safe. I want you to be happy, son."

Kurt doesn't know what to answer to that, so he does the only thing he can, and gives his father a long hug before he has to drive back. They've already made plans for Burt to come back in two weeks to pick Kurt up for their Friday night dinner. Then Kurt can go to his doctor's appointment on Saturday, and drive back - without his cast - on his own afterwards. Kurt is really looking forward to it.

* * *

When Kurt is back in his room, he immediately settles down by his desk and busies himself with studying. He has a plan to follow, after all. His iPod provides soft music in the background, because it's always been so much more difficult to concentrate without some noise around him. If it gets too quiet, his mind will just wander off. Also, he's noticed, after really hard study sessions he can sometimes associate songs with his curriculum. That means, if he get stuck during a test or the exam, he can simply try to hum one of the songs inside his head and see if he remembers why Napoleon invaded France or when slavery was abolished in the southern states.

* * *

"Hey, are you coming?"

The sound of Blaine's voice close to his ear startles Kurt so much he jumps in his chair and drops the book he had in his lap.

"Ouch, I'm sorry, OK?" Blaine laughs. The book landed on his foot.

"Well, if you sneak up on people like that, what are you gonna expect?"

"You, my dear, need to redefine what sneaking up on people means. I came through the bathroom like I usually do, I said your name several times, and I've been in this room for maybe three or four minutes without you noticing. You would make a terrible security guard."

Kurt gasps in mock shock.

"What? Isn't this Dalton Academy for Bodyguards?"

"Aww, will you be my Frank Farmer?"

"It sure beats having to be named Rachel," Kurt mock shudders.

"On the other hand, I think your voice matches better with Miss Marron."

"Although you're the one with sneaking skills, you don't look like a bodyguard," Kurt huffs, but winks.

"This is me in disguise," Blaine wiggles his eyebrows. "But are we going?"

"I need to finish this chapter and change clothes."

"Kurt, it's a laidback party, you don't have to dress up. Everybody is stressed about exams now, so it'll be a calm thing, and everybody can dive into their books tomorrow again without feeling tired and hung over."

"I still want to change, these clothes smell like books and markers."

"How long do you need?"

"Maybe twenty minutes?"

"OK, I'll wait for you."

"You don't have to do that, Blaine."

"I will wait for you," Blaine says calmly, and Kurt understands it's not up for discussion.

* * *

30 minutes later Kurt leaves his room to go to their victory party. As suspected he finds Blaine in his room, but not alone.

"Nick, Jeff, has the party been relocated?"

"We are here to escort our soloists to the party," Nick says, putting on some ridiculously big black sunglasses.

"Your safety is our main priority," Jeff adds, already clad in similar sunglasses, and pulls out a walkie talkie.

Jeff opens the door and looks to both sides in the hallway. He crouches down, rolls over, and leans against the wall.

"The coast is clear," he whispers, and they can hear it through Nick's walkie talkie, and they can hear it from his position outside Blaine's room.

"You may walk," Nick says, and gently prods the two boys on their lower backs.

"What's going on?" Kurt asks Blaine, pretending Jeff isn't walking a couple of feet in front of them and Nick the similar distance behind them.

"Umm, they saw me waiting for you in the hallway, I said I was bodyguarding you, and they decided I was too VIP to do that, so they took my job," Blaine blushes, and leaves out some lewd remarks they had made about him being more than willing to guard Kurt's body.

"Wait here!" Jeff hisses, and leaves them to go out of the dormitory first. He scans the wide open area outside the building, and when he's satisfied nothing can harm them, he waves them out.

"For goodness sake, stay together and don't get separated!" Nick warns them.

Kurt steps closer to Blaine, resting his arm around the other boy's waist to get even closer, and leans in to whisper in his ear.

"What do you think will happen if we split up?"

Blaine turns his head towards Kurt, and smiles mischievously.

"On three?" he whispers.

The two boys grin, and shout "three!" at the same time, running from each other.

"NO!" Jeff and Nick shouts scandalized. Both start running after Blaine.

"Kurt, we must save Kurt!" Nick screams, and both boys turn to find Kurt.

"Blaine, we must save Blaine!" Jeff screams as they leave him. They stop for a moment, have a quick, silent conversation with their eyes, before running in opposite directions to save one boy each.

Jeff rapidly catches up with Kurt. Kurt's tight jeans aren't the best to run in, so Jeff has an advantage. He body tackles the boy, and they land in a heap on the wet grass. The sun has smelted the little snow that was left, but not dried the ground yet.

"Oh my God," Kurt laughs hysterically. "If you've given me green stains on my clothes I'm going to cut you Lima Heights Adjacent-style!"

"How is that a threat when I don't even know what it means?" Jeff growls.

"Just fear my wrath, Jeff, fear it," Kurt smirks, scrunching his nose.

On the other end of the path, Blaine has slipped on the wet grass and stumbled to a fall. Nick takes a leap, and lands on top of Blaine who's struggling on his back to get up.

"Nick, get off of me, I'm not Jeff!" Blaine laughs.

"Oh, don't you wish I was Kurt right now," Nick winks, and moves his face even closer to Blaine's. His breath tickles Blaine's lips, and Nick finally leans in and kisses the other boy's nose.

"You're insane," Blaine mutters blushingly.

"And you're mad," Nick parries. "Madly in loooooove," he wiggles his eyebrows.

Blaine successfully pushes him off, and elegantly gets back on his feet.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he simply says, and walks off to Kurt and Jeff.

After brushing off some grass and checking for any clothing damages, the four boys finally arrive at the party. The other Warblers greet them with loud cheers, and someone throws a friendly remark about a gangbang. It still amazes Kurt how the other boys can joke about their sexuality without any kind of mocking or condescension. It seems they are joking with them in the same manner they would have done if it was Wes and David being late after seeing their girlfriends.

* * *

The party decorations and snack table isn't as elaborated as it was during Kurt's Welcome to the Warblers-party, but it's still a nice selection of sodas, sandwiches, snacks, and a tempting chocolate cake with "Congratulations" in pink frosting. A gift from Mildred the chef to her favourite boys.

A boom box in a corner is providing them with music, and the boys randomly burst into song, improvising dance moves and back up vocals.

"Are we only listening to 80's music tonight?" Kurt asks, after successively listening to _Relax_, _The Tide is High_, _Eye of the Tiger_, and _Do You Really Want to Hurt Me_. He's relaxing in a couch with David and Wes, watching Blaine making a fool of himself on the dance floor. It's a paradox how a boy with so much rhythm, musicality and dancing skills still can look so inelegant and clumsily.

"Blame it on Thad. He's kind of stuck in that decade, and forgot to join the rest of us," Wes grins.

"How can he be stuck in a decade he wasn't even born?"

"TARDIS," David shrugs.

It's a quiet, but nice party with friends, talk, laughter, music and a good time. As Blaine predicted, everyone's keeping it low. The Council has promised them a wilder party in the new year, though.

* * *

Songs mentioned:

Frankie Goes to Hollywood – _Relax_

Blondie – _The Tide is High_

Survivor – _Eye of the Tiger_

Culture Club – _Do You Really Want to Hurt Me_


	19. The Bet

**AN: So, I just saw the season finale, and I think I just want to ask kind Mr. Burt Hummel to please adopt me? 'Cause he has to be the most awesome father ever! I know most of you probably are gearing up for season 4, but I'm still digesting season 3, and would like to keep my life spoiler free, so I can enjoy the next season when it actually runs on TV here. I'm currently watching the first season, though, 'cause I must have me some Glee on TV!**

**Thank you to all the sweet persons who left wonderful reviews for me after the last chapters. Thank you to everyone who reads, makes this a favourite or otherwise pays attention to it. I'm thrilled by the responses I get! To think this is written by a silly girl who doesn't have English as her mother tongue, and just wants to have som fun with the Glee fandom. I adore you, guys!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, otherwise it would be no long breaks between each season, and they would send Glee as often as they send sports on TV.**

* * *

Kurt had been the first to leave the celebratory party, but he can't afford to lose a single moment of this Sunday when his books and notes are calling, and exams are approaching like an uncontrolled freight train with sabotaged brakes. That's why he had set his alarm to wake him up early.

Kurt didn't see any other Warblers at breakfast, but to be honest there were only a couple of Dalton boys there. Apparently not many choose to get up at 7 AM on a day off. Breakfast wasn't even served until 8 AM, but some food was available in the food hall 24/7. Glass jars with various cereals, a dispenser with milk and juice, a coffee automat, and one of those automats who spit out sandwiches and snacks in exchange for some coins.

He had brought the big Tupperware container with cookies when he left for breakfast, and carefully placed it outside the door, with a note saying it's for Nick from Secret Santa. He had considered knocking, to make sure Nick got the cookies, and not someone else. But Kurt couldn't be guaranteed he would have time to run away before someone opened the door, even though it's early and they probably were still sleeping. So he took a chance, hoping nobody will steal the cookies. He feels pretty confident; this is after all Dalton, not McKinley.

Kurt unlocks the door to his own room, and walks through the bathroom to wake up Blaine. The boy may not appreciate it, but he was the one who had made Kurt promise to get him out of bed so they could study together. Sure, he hadn't mentioned when he wanted to get up, but he should be thankful Kurt let him sleep for an hour later than Kurt had done.

"Blaine, it's about time to get up!" Kurt calls as he enters the boy's room. As expected he gets no response, so he strides over to the bed. He places the mug of coffee he brought on the nightstand, and shakes the silent boy.

"Blaine, you have to get up, we have a lot to do today," he tries again, shaking the boy rougher.

"'m sleepy," Blaine mumbles, and scoots away from Kurt, lying closer to the wall.

"I'll never understand how you can be such a morning person on a school day, and be so grumpy on a Sunday morning," Kurt chuckles, and starts pulling off Blaine's covers.

"You mean," Blaine mumbles, and snaps his covers away from Kurt's prying hand.

"Blaine, you asked, no, you begged me to do this. And I brought you coffee. Honestly, I don't know why I bother. It's not my exams who'll be flunked," Kurt scolds, but secretly grinning at Blaine's back. He's quite amused.

"I's drunk…"

"No, you aren't. Nobody had any alcohol yesterday. You're sober, tired and grumpy."

"Hate books…"

"Oh you do? 'Cause I have a steamy hot relationship to my school books," Kurt snarks.

"You hot," Blaine mumbles foggily, or at least that's what Kurt thinks it sounds like. But why should he say that? He must be delirious and mixing Kurt's own words.

"Blaine…" Kurt says carefully, fighting off his rouge over his cheek bones. "Come on, be a big boy and get up," he sighs and sits down on Blaine's bedside to be in a better position to shake the other boy some more.

Blaine turns around towards Kurt, wraps his arms around the other boy's waist, and yanks him closer. Kurt yelps and falls backwards, head landing on Blaine's pillows.

"T's nice," Blaine sighs, and Kurt can hear the smile in his voice. Blaine pillows his head on Kurt's chest. Kurt doesn't know what to do with his arms trapped in Blaine's embrace, so they stay put, stiff along his sides. He swallows, coughs.

"OK, five minutes, Blaine, but then…" He coughs again. "You're coffee will get cold," he mumbles. It's actually quite nice to lie like this, so close to Blaine. He wonders if the boy can hear how loud his heart is beating. His arms are trembling, he's dying to lift the one without a cast to play with Blaine's wild hair, or to let it rest around Blaine's shoulders, or to run a hand up and down Blaine's back. He just wants… more. Be closer. Share a moment. Not only be a mattress. But he doesn't know if he can. He'd have no problems doing it with one of his girl friends. But he doesn't want to come on as flirty or indecent, he doesn't want to cross the boundaries between friends and not-friends, he doesn't want to do something unacceptable to chase off Blaine. So he doesn't move, and concentrates on the weight of Blaine's upper body on top of him, the feel of Blaine's arms wrapped tight around him, the heat from Blaine's body against his own, the ticklish sensation of Blaine's breath through his shirt against his skin, and the smell of Blaine's shampoo so close to his own nose. It's actually quite nice to be wide awake and being able to use all his sensations to savour this.

There's no clock he can check, and he can't reach his cell phone in his pocket as Blaine is blocking his access, so Kurt takes a chance the five minutes he promised are up.

"Blaine, honey, you need to open your eyes."

No response but puffs of air against his chest, no pause in the rhythm to show Blaine heard him. Kurt sighs.

"You know, it's one thing you choose to sleep the day away, but you're keeping me hostage from my books as well."

Blaine nuzzles closer.

"Oh, what the heck, I surrender," Kurt almost purrs, and closes his eyes.

* * *

Luckily, Kurt isn't much of a sleepy head when he's already out of bed, so he wakes up from his nap after 45 minutes. Blaine is obviously – and finally – awake, lying on his side still in his sleeping clothes, elbow propped on the mattress and head resting in his palm. He's reading in one of his notebooks, which is resting against Kurt's hip.

"Oh, so now you want to study?" Kurt huffs, voice still rasp from sleep.

"Yesterday must have been one hell of a party," Blaine smiles as if Kurt hasn't said anything. "It really isn't often I wake up after a Warbler-party with a cute guy in my arms," he smirks, and grins wider when Kurt's skin takes on a new hue.

"But seriously, how did you end up in my bed? That's not even what you wore yesterday."

"What, do you remember that? Never mind. You made me promise to get you early up today; I tried in vain, until you nailed me to the mattress so I couldn't leave."

"Your outfits tend to leave an impression," Blaine shrugs. "Although, sadly I don't remember anything about nailing you to my mattress. Such a shame…" Blaine shakes his head with a mock sad expression on his face.

"Idiot," Kurt mutters, hitting Blaine on his shoulder with a closed fist.

"If I'm an idiot, maybe you should tutor me?"

"And what is today's topic?"

Blaine is silent for a while, probably thinking about what topic he needs to give a priority.

"First I'll hit the shower, grab some breakfast, and fuel up on caffeine. I assume the mug is from you, and I appreciate it, but it was cold when I woke up," Blaine says apologetically.

"It was hot when you pulled me into bed," Kurt says on a teasing note.

"Oh, wow, I didn't need to hear that!" comes a voice from the doorway.

"Maybe that'll teach you to knock, Wesley," Blaine growls, and flips one leg over Kurt's thigh.

"If you need privacy, you should learn to lock the door, Anderson," David suggests.

Kurt doesn't mean to, but he tenses from the contact, and apparently Blaine notices, because he removes his leg. He doesn't say anything to Kurt, but continues his conversation with Wes and David as if nothing. Kurt's attention has faded away, but he caught something about study group. He envies Blaine. Blaine is so laidback, so easygoing, and nothing is difficult for him. While Kurt almost freaks out when something too intimate happens, and obviously his boundaries for what's too much isn't normal. Kurt just feels awkward and stupid. Why can't he be like everybody else? Flirt and fool around, make physical jokes, and be relaxed around his friends?

"What do you think, Kurt? Kurt?" Blaine gently nudges his foot with his own.

"Huh?"

Blaine chuckles.

"Far away? We're wondering if you'll join us to work on biology?"

Kurt doesn't need to think about it.

"No thank you," he answers immediately. He needs to be alone now. Everything feels too intense, and he can hardly breathe. He can't concentrate sitting around Blaine right now.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thank you for the offer, but I had planned to work on chemistry today."

"Of course. I bet you have a plan for each day from today until the exams are done, with meticulously written to do-lists you don't want to alter," David grins.

"Yes!" Kurt exclaims surprised. "How did you know?"

"We went by your room before we came here, and noticed the schedule over your desk. We'll be impressed if you manage to follow that plan," David explains.

"However, you forgot one important thing," Wes states.

Kurt quickly scans the mentally stored plan, and comes up with nothing.

"No, I'm pretty confident I have full control."

"Oh young one, you'll soon learn what it means to live at Dalton," Wes sighs, leaving Kurt even more confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he yells at the two boys leaving Blaine's room laughingly.

* * *

Kurt's been sitting bent over his chemistry books all day, going through lab reports, and watching youtube-clips to see examples of some of the lab projects they've done this semester. He knows the exam will be both practical and theoretical, so the repetitions are necessary.

Chemistry really shouldn't be difficult. Memorize the formulas and the laws, and voila, it's bankers. But Kurt's mind doesn't work that way. He's always been better at topics discussed and approached from several angles, pro and con, on one side, but however. He likes to debate matters over and over, he likes fluid topics that don't have to be set in stone, he likes to analyze and evaluate, he enjoys putting his critical mind to good use.

Blaine is quite the opposite of Kurt. He had tried to explain to Kurt once how he felt comfortable around things with only one answer, he enjoyed the predictability. Either it's right or it's wrong, and it's possible to make it right easily if you get the formulas and rules down. Blaine's mind is sharp that way. He can memorize endless amounts of formulas, spilling them out like they simply are lyrics, guitar chords, movie quotes and friend's birthday dates. It's just something he does; he says it's familiar and safe, and easy.

Both Blaine and Kurt are intelligent boys with the potential to be straight A-students, but some things just come more easily, and they differ in what those things are. Which make them perfect study buddies, as their weak sides are the other's strong sides.

Kurt is holding his cast in front of his eyes while he tries to chant out some of the chemistry formulas, to make sure he isn't peaking and cheating on himself.

His phone alerting him of an incoming text interrupts him, and he isn't annoyed. He hates chemistry. It's a reason he's chosen to study it today. He know he'll be more unfocused, tired and restless later on in this hell week, so he wants to get all the difficult topics done with.

_Your brain fried yet? Some of us are ordering take out for lunch, wanna join? Nick_

A long and loud growl from Kurt's stomach makes his decision easy. It's already six hours since breakfast. He is a poor eater when he's cramming for big tests and exams. He really should try to get out of Dalton tomorrow and stock up on fruit for the next week.

_Sure. What are we having? Kurt_

_Chinese. Wevid promised to go pick it up if we all order from the same place. _

_Great! I'll have anything scampi._

_Done. Food in my room in 40._

Kurt spend the next thirty minutes watching more youtube-clips of chemical experiments, and OK, maybe he even watch some of failed experiments as well. All in the interest of research, right? And it's only healthy for his tired brain to be entertained for a couple of minutes, right? Finally he surrenders and lets his bored mind win. He decides to head for Nick's room a little early, hoping he won't interrupt him in anything important.

It turns out the only thing he interrupts is a heavy make out session between Nick and Jeff. They are lying down in Nick's bed, but the door is wide open, so it's difficult not to interrupt something.

"Studying for biology, I see," Kurt says to alert his arrival.

"Kurt! How good to see you, there's been a nasty rumour your books swallowed you," Jeff exclaims, as he's the first to see the boy. Nick is straddling him, but turns to greet Kurt as well.

"They should be back any minute," he explains as he climbs off his boyfriend. "I hope you're hungry, 'cause we might have gone a bit overboard with the menu."

"I had breakfast at seven this morning," Kurt says as a confirmation.

"You mean you haven't eaten since then?" Jeff says shocked, getting out of the bed and walks over to Kurt.

"No…"

"But it's nearly two in the afternoon!"

"I forget to eat when I study…" Kurt mumbles apologetically, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"You forget to eat?" Jeff shouts scandalized.

"Who forgot to eat?" Blaine asks from the doorway. He's carrying two paper bags with some oriental decoration, Wes and David following behind with the same in their hands.

"Kurt!" Jeff shrieks, pointing at the boy. Kurt wants to crawl under the bed, he feels exposed and ridiculed.

"We just learned that it's been seven hours since Kurt ate, and apparently he has bad eating habits when he drowns himself in school work," Nick explains further, while embracing his boyfriend from behind.

"We'll have to take better care of the new kid, then," Blaine smiles.

He puts his words into action, and starts taking various cardboard food containers out from his bags. Wes and David quickly follow after with the same actions.

Kurt takes the opportunity to quickly scan the room. So far he's only been in his own and Blaine's room, he hasn't seen any other of the dorms at Dalton. Nick's room is obviously bigger, but he has a double room. Two beds are facing each other, with a decent sized coffee table between them. That's where all the food is being placed. By the end of the beds, are their desks and wardrobes. Kurt doesn't see any door to a bathroom, so he asks Nick about this.

"Oh, you lucky devil, appreciate it while you have it. Your and Blaine's room are the only ones with an ensuite bathroom. The rest of us share bathroom in the hallway."

"Wait, so you have like lockers and shared showers and whatnots?" Kurt is startled, he remembers Nick telling him he should expect to get a double room and a roommate next year, but he just can't imagine the lack of privacy in every single area.

"It's not that bad, you can see for yourself later," Nick shrugs. "Let's eat now."

Kurt examines the table to look for his scampi, but there are much more than six containers on the table.

"OK, so we may have ordered one of every thing they had on the menu, but at least we can try different things, and no one will leave this room hungry," David explains, looking pointedly at Kurt.

"We don't know what's in any of the containers, so this is a surprise meal," Wes laughs as he hands out chopsticks.

Apparently they had been via the cafeteria on their way back. Blaine hands out plates in the familiar china.

"We also brought cutlery if you don't want to use the chopsticks," he adds.

He puts spoons in all of the containers, so they can take whatever they want onto their plates. David has been pulling out cans of drinks from his bag, and soon the boys can dig in from their elaborated lunch.

Kurt ends up with a mixed plate. Though he had decided on scampi, everything else seemed equally tempting when it turned up on the table. So he has a plate with scampi, chicken, beef, vegetables, sauce and rice. Even though he only took a little of each, it makes for a big portion of food. He doubts he can finish it.

"Mmm, these are sooo yummy," Blaine moans. He's holding an egg roll between his chopsticks.

"I wouldn't know," Kurt says airily.

"What, you've never tasted egg rolls?" Nick wonders surprised.

"They're fried," Kurt shrugs, as if that explains it. Which, in his mind, it does.

"You can't say you've had Chinese, and not taste egg rolls," Wes says almost offended.

"Yeah Kurt, honestly, you have to try one," Blaine says, reaching the container with egg rolls towards him.

"But it's so big and sticky," Kurt almost whines. He knows this will be a hard war to win, if all of them are ganging up on him.

"That's what he said!" Jeff laughs.

"Come on, Kurt, just one bite," Blaine pleads with his puppy eyes, and offers the last piece of his roll with his chopsticks.

"Those things go straight to my thighs," Kurt sighs, feeling as if he's lost the fight before it really got to begin. Blaine plays dirty!

"Oh, your body is more than fine," he says mock impatiently. "Now open your mouth and make me happy," Blaine says, reaching the piece of egg roll towards Kurt.

"And that's what he said!" Jeff cracks up, wiping off some tears from his laughter. The other boys laugh as well, while Kurt and Blaine turn into a matching crimson.

He has to admit, though, it does taste good.

As expected, they don't manage to finish all the food. They gather all the leftovers, and Blaine offers to keep it in his minifridge.

"May I offer you guys some dessert?" Nick asks. "I found an amaaazing surprise from my Secret Santa this morning," Nick gushes while he retrieves a big plastic container from under his bed.

"Cookies!" Wes and David exclaim at once.

"That's why you're the best boyfriend in the world," Jeff smirks and pecks Nick on his cheek.

Blaine praises how tasty they look, while Kurt works on his faked surprise. He hadn't expected the cookies to be brought out.

"Your Secret Santa must be a real sweetheart," Blaine gushes after taking a bite of a chocolate chip cookie, but he discreetly nudges Kurt's foot on the floor as he says it. Kurt almost chokes on his almond cookie, and David sitting on his other side quickly hits his back.

"Heimlich?" he offers, but Kurt declines with shake of his head and a wave of his hand.

"I guess I got greedy," he says hoarsely to the worried faces, and takes a big sip of his drink. It's no surprise Blaine figured it out. He knows how much Kurt enjoys cooking and baking.

They've been eating and talking for almost two hours, so Kurt figures it's about time to go back to his books.

"Dinner is served in the dining hall in two hours; do you want to join us?" Nick asks.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, it's dinner, we need dinner."

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief. He should be used to teenage boys' bottomless stomachs after living with Finn, but it still amazes him how much they can eat – and still look great.

"No thank you, I've eaten enough to last me for a week," Kurt politely declines.

"OK," Blaine says. "Some of us plan to watch a movie in the common's room later, care to join us? We gather at ten, so you should let your books, eyes and brain rest by then."

"OK," Kurt accepts. "I guess it can be nice to wind down with a movie before I go to bed."

"Excellent," Blaine beams. "We'll see you then, and I can force feed you with leftovers."

"Oh my God," Kurt groans. "I don't have an eating problem, you know?"

"Forgetting to eat seems like a challenge to the whole concept of staying alive," Wes reprimands, supported by David's eager nodding. Kurt wonders if they ever disagree on anything.

"If you trust me enough to breath on my own, I think I'll go back to my books now."

"Be careful!" Nick whines as he leaves the room, and he can hear Blaine's chuckles.

* * *

True to his words, Blaine is waiting with one of the cardboard containers from earlier and a set of chopsticks when Kurt joins him in the common's room. They obviously have a tradition for taking turn in deciding what to watch, and today's choice is _Shrek_.

"I've heated it in the microwave for you," Blaine says, and opens the lid. He quickly liberates the chopsticks from the paper wrapping, and manoeuvres them elegantly between his fingers.

"Here comes the choo choo train, into the tunnel," he coos, and bumps his hand up and down before it stills right in front of Kurt's mouth.

Kurt gives him his best bitch please-glare, but Blaine just laughs.

"I said I would force feed you," he smiles.

"Does it look like it's necessary?" Kurt hisses, aware of some of the other boys snickering around him.

"I don't see you eating," Blaine shrugs.

Kurt opens his mouth to respond with something sarcastic, but Blaine surprises him and shoves the food into his mouth.

"Such a good boy," he coos, and gently rubs Kurt's cheek with a finger.

"You're such a deviant," Kurt glares when he's swallowed the spicy chicken.

"You and me both, sweety, you and me both," Blaine giggles and wiggles his eyebrows.

Someone sitting closer to the TV shushes them, and Kurt uses the opportunity to take the food and utensils from Blaine.

"Now look what you did, getting the new kid in trouble with the other boys," he whispers in Blaine's ear, before chewing on a water chestnut.

"Such bad luck ending up in the wrong gang," Blaine whispers back, and makes a weird face to Kurt.

Kurt has to stifle his laughter.

"Oh Bla-haine," he hiccups, "you're really not very gangsta'."

"Don't get blinded by my innocent appearance," Blaine says deadly serious.

"So tell me, dearest," Kurt whispers carefully into Blaine's ear, "what are you hiding under that dapper uniform and gelled hair of yours?"

"I'm a full-blooded player," he drawls back in Kurt's ear, and casually wraps an arm around Kurt, pulling him closer to him.

"And to think you recently promised to defend my honour," Kurt sighs accusingly, but not bothering to hide away his smile.

"Maybe I want you for myself?" Blaine smirks back.

You could, Kurt thinks to himself. I really wouldn't have any problem with that.

He holds back a sigh as he wraps noodles around the chopsticks, and cuddles closer into Blaine. If Blaine is pretending to be a player, he'll pretend to be played for the night.

* * *

It's the last Monday before exams, and Kurt gets a little panicked by the thought of it. It's less than a week away now. The classes are rougher than last week. The teachers try to force a repetition of the entire semester into only a couple of classes, and are eager to grill the students, asking random questions and putting them on the spot. All in the name of preparation, of course.

Kurt joins his friends' table for lunch, but he's mostly sitting with his nose in his notes the whole time. Both Nick and Blaine try to get his attention, but to no avail.

After last class, they hurriedly swallow down some dinner. Warblers' practice has been advanced and shortened, so they would be practising from five to six each day this week, instead of their usual rehearsal hours. That way, they still have a lot of the evening left to study, and an hour of singing right after dinner will hopefully be a nice break.

"As you know, we are performing at the Christmas Ball. The organizing committee has kindly requested we spend 45 minutes to bring out the season jolly," Thad explains. "We know it's a hectic time for you, so we'll try to be a bit more laidback than we are before a competition, but we still need to make an impression."

"We suggest doing a repeat of the group numbers that worked best last year. Those of you who want to perform a solo, duet or any other kind of smaller number should let us know, so we can have the set list ready by tomorrow," Wes continues.

"So far Kurt and Blaine have asked for a duet, and Nick has asked for a solo," David informs them.

Kurt and Nick look at each other at the same time. Kurt with a big smile and Nick with a surprised expression.

"That's amazing, Nick, what are you singing?"

"Are you and _Blaine_ singing together?"

They say it simultaneously. Kurt's confused. Why is it such a big deal he is singing with Blaine? Don't they think he's good enough? He doesn't get to ask Nick, though, because David orders the room to calm down, and get ready for _Jingle Bells_.

* * *

After practice, Kurt really wants to get out of Dalton to buy fruit, but he doesn't know how. He decides to ask Blaine if there are any stores within walking distance.

"No, not that I know about, why?"

"I wanted to stock up on some energy sources for this week."

"We do have more Chinese," Blaine giggles. Kurt groans.

"I refuse to eat that for an entire week, Blaine," he huffs.

"OK, come on then," he says, and takes Kurt's arm and pulls him with him.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you into Westerville for some food shopping, of course."

"Wait, what? You can't do that, you need to be here and study," Kurt exclaims. That's not why he asked Blaine for help at all.

"Maybe I need to fill up my storage as well?" Blaine shrugs.

Kurt doesn't believe him, but they're already by his car, and Blaine has opened the door to the passenger seat for him. Blaine cranks up the radio, and they sing together to whatever song comes out from the speakers.

Blaine parks outside of a Kroger, and the two boys head in. Blaine yanks out a cart from the platform.

"Blaine, how much are you having? I'm only planning on buying a couple of apples."

"Uhuh, we're stocking up seriously, this is going to last us through exams."

"You haven't forgotten we get fed at Dalton?"

"No, but you have forgotten you forget to eat."

The boys continue with an easy conversation while they walk around in the store, filling the cart. Except for four apples, Kurt doesn't get to decide anything.

"Blaine, are you really sure you need all this stuff? It looks as if you're throwing a big party, and not preparing for exams."

"We do need all this," Blaine answers seriously. "We need to have something tasty to eat when the books are killing us. This is comfort food."

Kurt critically examines the content of their cart. Three bags of potato chips, a lot of chocolate and candy, 24 boxes of mineral water, energy bars, some bananas, grapes, four apples, mini carrots, and some bags of nuts. Blaine also adds a couple of those frozen dishes to heat in the micro wave.

"I swear, Blaine, those are not healthy."

"I know. I don't care. When the clock has struck midnight, and we still need to pull out some hours with the books, these will be your best friend.

Kurt shudders.

"Dalton is going to be so much rougher on me than McKinley…"

Blaine doesn't say anything, but he's secretly thrilled to hear Kurt crack jokes and comments like that. Considering how much he went through at his old school, nothing at Dalton should be able to top that. Still Kurt manages to joke about some frozen micro-dinners. He smiles, and squeezes Kurt's shoulder.

"What?" Kurt looks surprised and confused from his small gesture.

"I think you'll do just fine, Kurt," Blaine smiles, and stops in front of the dairy section to take out some milk.

"What do you need that for?" Kurt asks curiously.

"Sometimes you drink warm milk with Finn to relax before you go to bed, and although he isn't at Dalton, I thought you might want some."

Kurt looks at him, perplexed. He may have briefly mentioned it once, but Blaine remembers.

"Maybe I'll have to find his substitute," Kurt says airily.

They continue towards the check out, Blaine pushing Kurt through the pharmacy section, because

"No, Kurt, there's nothing here you need the next two weeks, we don't need to look our best for our books."

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaims scandalized. "I always need to look my best; you never know what can happen."

Blaine chuckles.

"I bet I'll spot you in the corridors in sweatpants before the exams are over," Blaine snickers.

"Seriously, Blaine? You think that's even a bet?"

Blaine just preens.

"Yup," he smiles, popping the p.

"So, on the atomic chance of you catching me in sweatpants outside my room, what do you get from it?

"Besides the rare joy of seeing Kurt Hummel in sweats? You'll have to make me a batch of those delicious cookies Nick got from you."

"Ooh, what a dare devil you are, Blaine! When I win this bet, you will go for a week without any gel in your hair."

"How is that fair?" Blaine whines.

"Are you scared, Blaine? Do you want to call it off, Blaine?" Kurt drawls, walking slowly towards Blaine as if he's about to attack him. Blaine is backing, trying to navigate himself and the cart without bumping into any customers.

"Au contraire," Blaine growls, rolling the r's, and Kurt reminds himself to never tell anyone how sexy that is. "I'm upping the ante. When I win this bet, you are still going to bake me cookies, 'cause hey, they are delicious. And… I will dictate your outfits for a week of my choice."

Kurt thinks about it for maybe two seconds, before he gives Blaine his hand.

"Deal," he smirks confidently.

"The bet is on," Blaine says equally confident.

In the check out, Blaine pays for everything before Kurt can even pull out his wallet.

Back at Dalton, they settle down in Blaine's room after filling his minifridge and a drawer with their purchases. They study for several hours. Blaine is sitting in his bed with summaries of the English literature they've read this semester. Kurt has borrowed his laptop to solve math problems online, which instantly shows if the answer is right or wrong. Now and then Blaine will get up from bed to retrieve something to snack on, and he always leaves something on his desk for Kurt as well. A banana, some grapes, a chocolate, an energy bar. Kurt huffs and groins, telling Blaine he isn't a child, and he's doing fine. But he always eats what Blaine brings him.

* * *

Tuesday begins in the same way as Monday did – a lot of intense classes, determined teachers and never enough time.

In Warblers' rehearsal, Nick sings through his solo of _O Holy Night_, so they can start working on their harmonies. They then continue to work on their steps and harmonies for some of the group numbers. Four of the boys have joined for a quartet and want to do something funny with _Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer_, so they get some input on what they should and shouldn't do.

The day ends the same way as Monday did, with Blaine, Kurt and a lot of notes and books in Blaine's room. To prove Kurt is capable of taking care of himself, he makes sure to help himself from their storage, and he grins triumphantly every time as he shares the snacks with Blaine.

* * *

Kurt's been having an off day. This Wednesday just doesn't want to cooperate.

Mrs. Adams, their math teacher, had called Kurt up to the front of the classroom to solve an equation on the blackboard. His mind had gone all blank, and every symbol written with chalk had looked like some alien Chinese symbols. Kurt had had to return to his desk without even being able to try solving it, and had felt so humiliated. Wes, sitting two desks behind him, had given him an encouraging smile when he returned, but it didn't help much. When the class was dismissed, Wes had caught up with him, told Kurt to relax, and offered to make a study group some time during the week. Kurt was really grateful for the offer, but he knew his problem were pre-exam jittery nerves, not knowing the curriculum.

In French, Kurt had used the opportunity to let his guard down a little, because Kurt aces French, even in a drunken sleep. His mind had wandered off, and he had been caught starring out of the window while the teacher had been explaining… something. Mr. Bouvier had wanted Kurt to repeat what he just said, which Kurt of course couldn't, and then he had reprimanded him for not paying attention. Kurt had felt so ashamed; he'd been starring at the blackboard for the rest of the class, hardly blinking.

During lunch Kurt had gone to his room, because he needed to be alone and cool down his brain.

Then in history, Kurt couldn't remember who General Franco and Benito Mussolini were. Of course he knew they had _something_ to do with a war in Europe, probably World War II. But that was about all he could say. He knew he could easily rant about Adolf Hitler, Holocaust and the Marshall Plan for hours – but the two names his teacher was asking for suddenly didn't mean anything to him. Kurt had felt like such a failure.

Finally, in his literature class, he'd been so exhausted and nervous he couldn't think clearly. He'd been called out to explore the effects the novel _Life Among The Lowly_ had on society when it first was published, and for a panicked, agonisingly long moment Kurt had no idea what the teacher was talking about. If it hadn't been for the purest luck that Jeff happened to have the copy of his novel on his desk, and if Jeff hadn't "accidentally" pushed it off of his desk so it landed next to Kurt, and if Kurt hadn't seen the cover of it, he'd probably not have realized the teacher was talking about _Uncle Tom's Cabin_. Kurt managed to rattle off some kind of analysis, but he was still flustered from not recognizing the title, and the words clogged up in his throat.

After the last class, Kurt decides to go back to his room. He doesn't feel like joining Warblers' practice. He isn't focused enough to sing, he isn't in the mood to prepare something Christmas-y, and he really needs to wrap his mind around some books.

Unfortunately, Blaine sees him in the hallway, and catches up with him.

"Hey Kurt!" he smiles giddily, and Kurt doesn't understand how he can seem so happy and energized after such a dreadful school day. Kurt just glares at him, and walks on in the direction of the dorms. Blaine's smile falters.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Nothing," Kurt all but spits, walking a bit faster to get away.

He's stopped by Blaine grabbing him by the elbow, yanking him back.

"Don't be like this," Blaine says softly, but some hurt is evident in his voice.

"I've just had a really bad day, being constantly reminded how stupid and unprepared I am, and I need to spend some quality time with my books now." Kurt's focusing on not yelling, because one does not yell in Dalton hallways. He tries to get out of Blaine's firm hold.

"But Warblers…" Blaine begins.

"Screw Warblers, Blaine! It's just some songs. It's not important, it's not finales, it's not my future!"

Kurt tries to rip his arm out of Blaine's hold, but the boy just holds him firmer, pulling him in the opposite direction they were going. He leads them into en empty classroom, and locks the door to provide their privacy. He pulls Kurt into a hug, holding him close, arms wrapped around his shoulders, preventing the boy from moving, just holding him tight.

"It's just…"

"I know."

"I don't…"

"I know."

"I can't…"

"I know."

Because Blaine does know. He knows how it is to be a mid semester transfer trying to compete with those who have been there all year. He was in some of Kurt's classes today, and easily noticed how off he was, how he had struggled with things Blaine knows Kurt knows, because they have studied a lot together, and Blaine knows Kurt is smart. But he also knows that Kurt has been pushing himself a lot lately, and maybe it's been too much. It's about time Blaine does the sensible thing, and makes sure Kurt doesn't collapse before the exams are done. So he doesn't let go of Kurt until the boy is relaxing in his arms, while plotting his plan.

Blaine forces Kurt to join him for dinner in the dining hall, because he has to eat food that isn't apples and energy bars. While they eat, Blaine even manages to convince Kurt to attend Warblers' practice, arguing Kurt needs to recharge his batteries before he focuses on the books again.

"Besides, I was hoping we could try _Baby It's Cold Outside_ today."

Blaine doesn't know, but that's what does the trick. Kurt would never let down a chance to sing with Blaine. Hidden under the table, Blaine sends off a text to Nick, Jeff, Wes and David.

_Remember what you did for me last year? Kurt needs it. Tomorrow, 9 PM. Blaine_

He silences his phone, so Kurt won't register the sudden activity Blaine expects of incoming texts within the next minutes.

_Ah, Mission Moon, we're on it! You can trust us. Jeff_

_You just enjoy being able to pull out the dark sunglasses and walkie talkies again. Blaine_

_I feel bad for not thinking about it myself. He looks exhausted. Nick_

_I should have seen it earlier, but at least it's not too late. Blaine_

_Capital idea, man. David and I will get the supplies. Wes_

_Thank you guys, you're the best. Blaine_

Wes and David don't share a phone, but they may just as well. If you text or call one, you get the other. They were actually in some aspects more co-dependent than Nick and Jeff.

_Maybe I need the sunglasses to not become a werewolf? _

_Sure thing, Jeff…_

_You're good for him, Blaine. _

_That's what friends are for, Nick. You guys did it for me._

_We know we are, but we're glad you finally realize it. W&D_

_Yeah, friends, sure thing, Blaine…_

"What's going on?"

Kurt's voice startles Blaine.

"Huh? What?"

"So eloquent," Kurt smirks. "You're smiling like someone gave you the perfect birthday present. When is your birthday anyway?" Kurt adds in afterthought.

"Oh, it was earlier this year," Blaine answers absentmindedly, while he reads the last texts and tucks away his phone.

"So your birthday is somewhere between January 1st and the end of November. Good to know…" Kurt says snarkily.

"I'm sorry, I was texting with Wes," Blaine apologizes politely, although still a bit distant with all the plans running through his mind. "Speaking of which, should we head for Warblers?"

They get up, and Blaine carries Kurt's tray to the disposal station.

Blaine and Kurt do a rough run-through of their duet, and get a lot of positive feedback. The Council isn't sure if they should work out some background harmonies, if they should use musical accompaniment, or if they should keep it as an a cappella duet. The Council will think about it until next rehearsal.

The rest of the night is spent with books and notes, and Kurt isn't in bed until 2 AM.


	20. Mission Moon

**AN: Thank you so much to Flobouille93 for helping me double check my French!**

**I love you guys for all the wonderful reviews you are leaving me!**

**Disclaimer: My birthday is coming up next week, so who knows who owns what in just a few more days?**

* * *

"I hate you," Kurt mutters, glaring at the reflection in the mirror.

"Well, good morning to you too," Blaine says carefully. Kurt hadn't notice him open up his door. "May I enter?"

"Of course." Kurt moves a little to his left, to give Blaine space by the wash basin.

"Who's the victim of your wrath?"

"This," Kurt grunts, and raises his right arm. "I'm sick and tired of it."

"How much longer?" Blaine asks into the mirror while carefully gelling down his hair.

"Nine days, and then I'm free," Kurt glares evilly at the cast.

"Oh, so it'll be gone in time for the Ball?" Blaine asks, and washes the left over gel off of his hands.

"It will!" Kurt squeals with sudden excitement. "I can wear whatever I want, I can go on stage without drawing unnecessary attention to myself, and I'm finally independent again," he smiles and adds a finishing touch to his coiffed hair.

Blaine gives Kurt a gentle push on his shoulder to make him move away from the sink.

"I hope you won't get so independent you won't need me to escort you and dance with you," Blaine fakes coyness, and starts buttoning Kurt's shirt over the undershirt.

"Oh sweety, it does take two to tango, you know?" Kurt replies with a wink, and adjusts Blaine's tie which had gone a bit askew while the boy tamed his curls.

Kurt leans over the sink again to make sure his face looks alright.

"Don't take this wrong, I don't mean to chase you out of the bathroom, but why don't you use the mirror in your room?"

Kurt's face softens by the memory of Blaine's housewarming gift and their lunch at _Granny's_ his first weekend at Dalton.

"I do use it; I use it a lot and love it. But I have no free shelf in there, so it's easier to fix my hair and skin in here, where the bottles have space."

"Do you feel like you've settled down? I don't expect you to be fully acclimated with Dalton yet, but I just wonder if you're happy with your room, or if you'd like to change anything."

Blaine appreciates how Kurt actually takes time to ponder the question. It's a trait in the boy he really values. It feels as if Blaine's question is important enough to deserve a well thought answer. It makes Blaine feel important and cherished.

"Yeah, I actually think I am. After I got up the posters I bought on eBay the walls are more lively and personal. I've gotten some kind of system, although sometimes I discover there are things left in Lima I would have wanted here. But I get by," Kurt smiles.

"I can sense a 'but'," Blaine encourages.

"I do have everything I need, and I've managed to give my room some personal touch. But there's still something missing, I just don't know what."

"What's your room in Lima like?"

"Oh, you've never been at my house, that's right. We actually moved recently. Dad and Carole bought a bigger house after they got married. I had just finished redecorating and packing out, when I…"

Kurt stops himself from continuing. Blaine leans back on the sink to look directly at Kurt, and not via the mirror.

"When what, Kurt?"

"I transferred," Kurt laughs humourlessly.

"Do you… regret it?" Blaine asks carefully, afraid of what Kurt will answer. He's gotten so used to having the boy around; he can't imagine how he'll make the days pass with Kurt transferring back to McKinley.

"God no, Blaine, I don't regret it. I need the safety, and Dalton is good for me in many ways. Doesn't mean I don't miss my friends and family, though," he adds.

"It's soon Christmas, and you'll be home for three weeks."

Kurt just nods. Three weeks away from Dalton, and three weeks where he'll miss Blaine, Nick, Jeff, David, Wes, Warblers and the Dalton madness instead. He just can't have it all, can he?

"We should head for class," he says instead.

* * *

Classes go by way too fast for Kurt's liking. The faster they speed off, the shorter time he's got left for preparations and getting ready for his exams. It's already Thursday. His heart's been beating so fast lately, he feels as if he's constantly gasping for air, his mind is boiling trying to battle four tasks at once, leaving him left with less focus and concentration than he's used to having, and to top it all his right arm has started throbbing with pain again.

* * *

"Where's Kurt?" Jeff asks.

It's ten minutes into their lunch hour, and the five friends are gathered at their usual table. Blaine's head snaps up from his discussion with David about NATO and the UN, and he scans the dining hall.

"Didn't you have class with him now?" he asks the boyfriends.

"Yeah, but he told us not to wait. I thought he just needed to use the bathroom and would join us," Nick shrugs.

Blaine is calling Kurt even before Nick finishes his explanation.

"I've texted him his food is getting cold," Wes offers, but Blaine doesn't cancel the call.

"I ended up with his voice mail," Blaine sighs after a while.

"He's a big boy who can look after himself," David tries to calm him.

"Even big boys need to eat."

"So bring something. You see him in next class, don't you?" David suggests, always the reasonable one.

* * *

Kurt rushes in right after the bell chimes for the next lesson, so Blaine doesn't get to talk with him until class is over.

"Where were you during lunch?" he asks, unable to hide his worry.

"I needed Mr. Bouvier to explain me something I was afraid I didn't understand."

"Mr. Bouvier? But Kurt, you're probably better in French than our French teacher is. What possibly could you need some extra tutoring for?"

"I just panicked," Kurt mumbles apologetically.

"Well, did you at least get to eat anything?"

Kurt shakes his head, and Blaine starts rummaging through his satchel. He then hands him an energy bar, a banana and a water bottle.

"Eat," he orders.

"I can take care of myself, you know. Skipping one lunch isn't a big deal."

The look Blaine gives him shows Kurt he isn't convinced.

"Thank you, though," Kurt mumbles, and starts chewing on the bar as they rush off to next class.

This night can't come soon enough, Blaine thinks. Kurt really needs what they're planning for him.

* * *

When the last class is dismissed, Jeff and Nick rest their arms on Kurt's shoulders, and lead him to the dining hall. He was headed for the library to read for an hour before Warblers' rehearsal, but apparently the boys caught up on his idea and made sure to intervene.

"Eat," they order, pointing at the selection of today's hot meals. They let him study drawings and diagrams of how volcanoes work, as long as he remembers to feed himself, though. Kurt is so wrapped up in his own study bubble; he doesn't even notice that three persons are missing from their table. Nick and Jeff have an explanation ready just in case, so they can cover for the boys preparing Mission Moon.

* * *

During rehearsal, they continue to work on their group numbers. Although the songs are both traditional and familiar, it's still new for Kurt, having to learn his harmonies and their dance steps.

The backing harmonies for Nick's solo are coming along nicely as well, and Kurt reminds himself to tell Nick what a wonderful voice he has.

The Council has decided to go with musical back up for the duet. Although it's nothing they normally do, being an a cappella group, they allow themselves to make some short cuts with their busy exam period. The trio also thought the duet would be cuter and flirtier with just the two boys on the stage, but they don't voice that opinion out loud.

They know there will be a piano on stage, so the boys can use that as a prop. The Council plan to ask the hosting committee how the stage will look other than that, to find out if they need any other equipment and to execute the performances more detailed.

As soon as practice is over, Kurt bolts out towards his room. For once none of his friends object, as they need five minutes together to polish the last details for their plan.

* * *

He knocks on Kurt's door precisely at 9 PM, because punctuality is a virtue he cherishes. At least he does for the most. They had decided he should be the one to approach Kurt, as he would seem the least conspicuous. Kurt hasn't had much one on one time with him, so he can't read him as easily and risk revealing something's up. Hopefully, Kurt will object less to his antics. Mission Moon is on.

"Hey David, Blaine isn't here," Kurt greets, and it breaks David's heart a little that Kurt firstly thinks he's there to look for someone else.

"I'm here for you," David smiles genuinely. "I assume you're about to head for bed, so I hope I'm not disturbing, but if I could have a word with you?" he asks, fully aware of the fact that Kurt would be bent over his books for several more hours if it wasn't for Mission Moon.

"Sure, David, why don't you come in?"

Now is where the difficult part begins.

"Actually, I'm in need of some fresh air after a long day with my books, do you mind joining me outside for a moment?"

Kurt tilts his head and looks questioningly at him.

"It feels as if I've inhaled half of the dust who covers the old books in the library," David chuckles.

Kurt half smiles, but nods.

"OK, I'll just grab my jacket and put on some warmer boots."

"So?" Kurt asks, as they head outside. He already feels a tug in his stomach from his neglected books.

"You've been at Dalton for more than three weeks now, and been a member of Warblers for almost as long. The Council just wants to check up on our newest member. We will be doing an evaluation after the Ball to see what worked and didn't work this semester, to plan for the next."

David isn't speaking one untruthful word to him. They are going to evaluate the semester, and the Warblers will give their feedback before that meeting. They just usually do that over e-mail, and not one to one. But there's no harm in giving the new kid some extra attention in the process.

"I love being a Warbler," Kurt smiles widely. "You've all been so kind and generous, welcomed me from the first moment, and made me feel included," Kurt says, thinking about the coffee stunt they threw to help him keep away after pulling an all-nighter, the welcoming party they hosted for him, and the honour of getting a competition solo.

"I'm glad to hear that, Kurt," David says, and guides them along a path leading from the dormitory building.

"Considering the fresh point of view you represent, are there things we should change?"

"I don't know if I've been here long enough to be in a position to criticize you," Kurt says evasively.

"But there's something you're thinking about?" David prods.

"No, not really. It's just… it's very different, from New Directions," Kurt tries to explain. "Don't get me wrong, I love the Warblers," Kurt hurriedly adds. "It's just… something new to get used to."

David nods in understanding.

"Do you miss them?"

"They're my friends. What do you think?" Kurt snorts.

"Fair enough. If you don't mind telling, what are the New Directions like? After all, it's about time I get to do some spying by now," he adds tongue in cheek. They're getting closer to their destination, and David hopes he can keep Kurt distracted for some more minutes.

Kurt shakes his head amused, but stops himself from bumping his shoulder into David's. He would if it was Blaine, though, but he restricts himself with the other boys.

"Oh God, I don't know where I should begin," Kurt chuckles. "They may be easier to understand through observation. In many ways they're the opposite of the Warblers, and I love and hate them."

"Sounds intense."

"Imagine a family with a lot of siblings, fighting and shouting for their parents' – or our director's – attention, jealousy constantly searing under our skins, and always competing against each other. But when all comes to all, we stick up for each other, protect, defend and love each other."

David has an urge to comment some of that protection must have failed considering Kurt had to transfer to Dalton, but he doesn't want to ruin the night. Besides, he doesn't know enough about Kurt's story to be in a fair position to judge his Glee club and friends.

"Is it much different to be in an all boys choir?" David asks, honestly curious. He's been at private schools through middle school and now high school, and has forgotten what it's like to have girls around all the time. Besides, teenage girls must be different from kid girls.

Kurt snorts at his question.

"A lot of rehearsal time is spent with someone belting out their feelings to declare a love, beg for forgiveness or announce hatred. I had to draw a chart to keep control of who's dating who, who's slept with who, who are exes, and yeah. I expect the Warblers, with mostly straight guys, is less filled with drama," Kurt laughs.

"What do you mean? People just stood up and sang a song?"

"Yes. We express our feelings or situations through songs. It's both naked and vulnerable, but also comforting. You get to hide behind a song while at the same time laying your emotions bare for the others to see," Kurt explains, thinking about when he sang _I Want To Hold Your Hand_ while his father was critically sick in the hospital.

"How does it feel?" David asks. He's used to performances being done for the sake of the performance.

"It's cathartic. You feel emotionally drained, but it's good riddance as well. It's a way to make your friends see you without explicitly having to ask for help, it's a way to find the right words to describe your feelings that otherwise are unreachable, and it's also intensely bonding."

"I can imagine. But how did you get your set lists prepared, if rehearsals where used for therapy?"

Kurt laughs out loud at that.

"Oh David, you'd be shocked. Some of the songs end up on the set list, but other times…" Kurt shakes his head amused, and tells David about the time Sue gave away their set list, so they had to prepare something in the green room merely hours before they went on stage.

"If they're that good at improvising, I really hope we won't have to go up against them for Regionals," David shudders.

With a painful sting of guilt Kurt remembers New Directions were competing in their Sectionals the day before, and he had completely forgotten all about it. He feels like an awful friend. He mutters some profanities to himself, making David stumble.

"Wow, Kurt, what's up?"

"I just realised I forgot their Sectionals yesterday. I should go back to my room to make some phone calls before it gets too late."

They're almost at their destination, but David doesn't know if he can make Kurt go any further. He looks distressed, as if the phone calls are really important.

"Do you have your phone with you?" he asks.

"Yes…" Kurt hesitates.

"Why don't you just text them now, before you forget about it?"

"But we're like fifteen minutes away from the dorms, I'll manage to call them before it gets too late if we turn now," Kurt insists.

Inwardly, David is panicking. They are so close! This calls for desperate measures. He unwinds his scarf.

"Don't panic," he says, and with some moves he's picked up from Wes' krav maga, he's blindfolded Kurt and spun him four times to disorient him.

"That's so cliché to say before pulling a stunt like that," Kurt hisses. "'Don't panic' usually means shit's about to hit the fan!"

"Gee Kurt, how can you be so relaxed and level headed about this," David teases, his Council hat ripped off. "If you can trust me for the next 300 meters, I'll give you the gift of sight back."

"I don't have much of a choice, now do I?"

"That's a good boy," David coos, and carefully steers Kurt down the oak tree alley in the park. The lamp posts are lit, so it's easy to see where he's walking, and he has no difficulty leading Kurt safely. Neither of them knows it, but they have just passed the place where Blaine found Kurt after the incident with Wes and the gavel.

David leads Kurt further along the alley. After almost 300 meters he stops, and leads Kurt off their path for a moment. With a twist with his wrist he unties the scarf.

"Tadaa!" he enthusiastically shouts.

Kurt blinks a couple of times, before he can take in the whole picture. They've left the lamp posts far enough to be in the dark shadows. However, a bonfire is providing both light and warmth. Sitting on primitive benches made of thick logs split in two are his new Dalton friends; Nick, Jeff, Wes, and Blaine.

"Welcome to Mission Moon!" Wes bounces where he's sitting. Nick and Jeff are grinning at his probably stupid face, and Blaine is just looking at him with a calm and soft expression.

"Am I right to assume I won't be back to my room before ten," Kurt asks, not quite knowing if he feels most surprised, defeated, glad or annoyed by the turn of events.

"That is absolutely correct, and you are about to enter a cell phone free area," David adds, as he knows why Kurt needs to go back. "Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Oh, pardonnez-moi. Pouvez-vous me donner votre téléphone portable?" David asks again.

Reluctantly, Kurt hands it over.

"Who did you need to text?"

"What?"

David sighs, before he repeats in French.

"A qui avais-tu l'intention d'envoyer un sms?"

"Les membres des New Direction," he answers resigned, knowing the Glee club is listed as a group on his phone.

"d'Accord."

David quickly types out a text, and sends it to all of the members in New Directions.

"What did you write?" Kurt sighs.

"I'm just explaining how you've been kidnapped into the dark woods for some Dalton therapy by your angelical friends, and how sorry you are for not being able to talk with them, but you're hoping they're all still celebrating their victory from yesterday."

"How do you know they won?"

"I don't. I'm just going for a lucky guess."

Kurt reaches out a hand to get his phone back.

"Nuhuh," David says, turning the phone off and tucking it away in his pocket. "You're not getting that back until we're done here."

"And when will that be?"

"Later."

The other boys have watched their exchange with amusement, but finally Wes calls on them to quit the French study duet, and join them around the fire.

David drops down next to Wes, and Blaine pats on a sheepskin next to him for Kurt to sit on. Kurt wrinkles his nose.

"It's fake, you won't smell like a farm, promise," Blaine chuckles.

"So…" Kurt says after sitting down on the fluffy sheep. "What's going on?"

"We're having a barbeque," Nick explains, as if it was obvious. Jeff begins to hand out telescopic barbecue sticks to all six of them, and Wes passes around a packet of sausages.

"You guys aren't kidding," Kurt realizes. "But what about the books? We have to study!"

"I almost went insane my first semester here," Blaine begins his story. "I was desperate to prove myself to the teachers, my friends, the other students, my family. I ignored basic biological needs like food and sleep in favour of studying. I almost made myself sick. Luckily, I have these four guys," he says and points at each of them, "and they forced me to relax, stop pushing myself beyond limits, and make sure I wasn't exhausted before the exams could even begin. I really understand how you feel, Kurt, but you still have time, this isn't even your Senior year. You have to survive to graduate, and you have too high expectations for yourself. Be a human. Enjoy this evening with us, try to breath through the weekend, and meet your exams fairly rested."

Kurt looks at him wide eyed.

"But…"

"No buts. It's not like you didn't learn anything at McKinley, and being a mid semester transfer sucks. But this isn't how you deal with it. And stop thinking about your hips, I can read your mind. A couple of sausages won't kill you," Blaine scolds him.

"A couple of… A couple of? You'll be lucky if I eat a whole one," Kurt sulks, but obediently spears a sausage on the stick before reaching it towards the flames.

It doesn't take much time before the six boys are chatting and laughing, enjoying the December night. The sky is dark, but decorated with a big moon and a nice sprinkle of stars. It isn't colder than they can endure for a while.

Wes and David have brought supplies, and make sure the boys have all the sausages and buns they want. They have even made three thermoses of hot chocolate, which the boys share two and two. When Kurt's fingers are getting a bit cold, they pull out a pair of finger gloves, as they expected him not to be quite dressed for the night out.

Kurt surprises himself when he starts eating a second hotdog. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. It's usually not his kind of food, but it's something about the mood and setting. The taste of slightly burnt food, the smell of smoke and nature, the fresh air, the laidback evening, the bright moon, the smiling boys around him. It's not too bad. Maybe he did need to wind down a little.

Wes checks on some big foil draped lumps lying on the ground under the fire.

"The baked potatoes seem to be done, if anyone wants."

Kurt happily accepts. Wes cuts in the potato with a knife to shove butter into, before handing him the potato and a small plastic spoon on a paper plate.

Blaine declines the potato offer, and instead leans down to pick up something from under the log. It's his guitar. First he just plays some nonsensical melody, fooling around with chords and rhythms, but soon he strums a slow melody Kurt thinks he recognizes, but can't place. Blaine's soft tenor lets out some words, and although it's slower than the original, Kurt instantly gets which song it is.

"_I gotta feeling That tonight's gonna be a good night, That tonight's gonna be a good night, That tonight's gonna be a good, good night_," he sings, as if it is a sore, tender ballad.

He speeds up the fingers work, and Wes and David jump up from their log bench to rap the next part.

"_Tonight's the night, Let's live it up. I got my money, Let's spend it up. Go out and smash it, Like oh my God Jump off that sofa, Let's get, get off_," they shout, jumping down from the bench at the mention of the sofa.

Kurt chuckles; apparently Blaine isn't the only furniture jumper in Warblers.

Jeff sings the next part, with Nick echoing part of the lyrics. The four boys continue to share the song, while Blaine does his best to accompany them with the guitar. Kurt grins and finishes his potato.

The other four boys have helped themselves to their baked potatoes, and Blaine continues playing the guitar. Again it's just some nonsensical melody, until it seamlessly transfers into another well-known hit. Kurt's eyes tries to follow Blaine's quick finger work, and his heart skips a bit at the sound of Blaine's beautiful singing voice. He silently scolds himself for being so cliché – swooning to a gorgeous guy grooving the guitar.

"_Do I attract you? Do I repulse you with my queasy smile? Am I too dirty? Am I too flirty? Do I like what you like?_" he sings, looking at Kurt.

Kurt takes over the next verse.

"_Yeah, I could be wholesome, I could be loathsome, I guess I'm a little bit shy. Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me without making me try?_"

Blaine yells out how he tried to be Grace and Freddie, and Kurt hopes nobody at school can hear them.

"_Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me? Why don't you like yourself? Should I bend over? Should I look older just to be put on your shelf?_" Blaine sings, while Kurt internally screams how much he does like him.

It's Kurt's turn to sing the chorus, before they finish the rest of the song together.

Blaine effortlessly glides over to a new song without missing a beat. Neither of the other boys recognizes it, so Blaine gets to sing it solo.

"_Stop and stare, walking down the road again, for the better, some peace. Jamming with my life, so everybody can hear that, I live on the street, on my street, yeah, on my street._"

Kurt can't help but stare at Blaine. He has no idea what song it is, but he knows that even though Blaine is quite Top 40, he loves goofing around on Youtube and Spotify to discover songs and artist. This song is quite good, and Blaine sings it with rawness and intensity.

"_I will always be right here, I will always be right here, I will always be right here, here on my street. Many years have gone, I glance back to see, growing up here was good, many people say that don't you ever forget it, try to come back soon._"

Kurt imagines Blaine is singing about transferring to Dalton, being at Dalton, finishing high school at Dalton. It's a safe haven for both of them, and hopefully they can some time in the future look back to it as a good time in their lives after experiencing public high school hell. He knows he'll never forget McKinley, for a lot of the wrong reasons. But Kurt Hummel is pretty sure Dalton will be good for him, and give him a lot of cherished memories.

Blaine continues to play random songs on the guitar, and the boys sing, making harmonies on the go, and just having fun.

"We need dessert," Wes suddenly exclaims. From the bag of plenty he pulls out six oblong objects in foil, and places them at the bottom of the bonfire.

David pulls out warm wool blankets from a big bag, and the boys get one each. The flames are slowly dying down, and it's getting colder to sit still in the night.

Four songs later, Wes declares dessert ready to be served. Paper plates and plastic spoons are handed out to everybody, with a foiled surprise to each.

Curiously, Kurt tears open the aluminium. Dessert turns out to be a split banana, and in between the halves is chocolate which has smelted from the heat.

"It's really good," Blaine promises as he sees Kurt's sceptical face.

Kurt decides to give it a try, and almost moans from the taste.

"This is so delicious," he sighs happily. "But I don't think I can stomach all of it."

Wes also pulls out a bag of marshmallows to roast over what's left of the flames, but by then everybody's too full.

Jeff has taken over the guitar and is playing low, slow melodies. Nobody sing to it, they just enjoy the sound, letting their minds relax and wind down.

Kurt notices a shiver running through Blaine's body, and the boy is flexing his fingers as if to snap the cold and stiffness away.

"Are you freezing?" Kurt asks silently to not draw the other's attention to them.

"Just a little," Blaine shrugs. "I thought I was dressed well enough, but sadly not."

"Layers, Blaine, it's all in the layers," Kurt scolds with a laugh.

He slides one leg over the log, so he's straddling it.

"C'mere," he waves, guiding Blaine to turn away, and lean against Kurt between his legs. Blaine tucks the wool blanket he had draped around his shoulder over himself. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's waist, pulling him flush against his chest so they can share body heat. Blaine connects their hands under the blanket, and he leans his head to rest where Kurt's neck and shoulder meet.

"Better?"

"Much better," Blaine murmurs.

* * *

Again, the boys don't get to bed until long after midnight, but at least this night they all feel sated and tranquil, and they sleep dreamlessly until their alarm clocks go off the next morning.

* * *

**Songs mentioned/lyrics are from**

The Beatles – _I Want To Hold Your Hand_

Black Eyed Peas – _I Gotta Feeling_

Mika – _Grace Kelly_

Kurt Nilsen – _My Street_


	21. Snowy Night

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Glee, even though my birthday came up since my last update :(**

* * *

Friday is – not surprisingly – a rushed blur of lessons. It's their last chance to ask the teachers any questions, and the teachers' last opportunities to prepare their students for their exams.

Even though Kurt had gone to bed long after midnight, he doesn't feel as exhausted as he's been earlier this week. For once, he had slept better than he's done in a long time. All the fresh air, the food and the company must have made him tired enough to sleep through. He hadn't managed to think or worry for even a minute, before the Sandman had taken him to Dreamland. He had stayed there, safe and calm, until his alarm clock had chimed and brought him back to reality.

Kurt had anticipated feeling more stressed throughout the day – after all, he missed an entire evening of studying. But Mission Moon did wonders for him, and he's walked around in Dalton's hallways feeling quite serene and level headed today.

The feeling lasts until he comes back to his room, after dinner and Warblers' rehearsal. Then panic attacks him. He's on his own now!

"Good evening," a chirpy voice sounds from the bathroom door.

"No, it really isn't," Kurt groans, throwing himself down on his bed.

"What's chewing you?" Blaine chuckles. Drama Kurt can be quite entertaining.

"I've been _abandoned_!" Kurt shrieks.

Blaine shakes his head in amusement, and strolls over to Kurt. He plops down on the floor next to Kurt's bed.

"Did someone leave you in a basket on a doorstep, with a blue ribbon on your head?" Blaine asks seriously, resting his chin on Kurt's mattress.

Kurt glares at him, before trying to swing his cast against Blaine's head, but Blaine ducks in time, laughingly.

"Violence is not the answer," Blaine says serenely. His inside is shaking from laughter, because Kurt is just too adorable right now, but Blaine is a good actor, and he quite enjoys riling up the otherwise unfairly composed Kurt.

Kurt clutches the casted arm to himself to show he's controlling his violent outburst, and Blaine rests his head on his folded arms on Kurt's bed again.

"Be a good boy and tell me why you feel so abandoned then, darling."

Kurt huffs and pouts, folding his arms over his chest as good as he can with the cast.

"It's Friday night," Kurt mutters.

Blaine just grins, and crawls up into the bed next to Kurt.

"There's a stranger in my bed, There's a pounding my head, Glitter all over the room, Pink flamingos in the pool!" he belts out, with a big smile on his face.

Kurt kicks him out of his bed, but Blaine lands on his feet, and skips over to Kurt's wardrobe as he continues to sing. He finds the fedora Kurt was sporting during the welcome party, and places it on his own head.

Kurt has buried his head in his pillows, trying to groan louder than Blaine sings.

"Pictures of last night Ended up online. I'm screwed. Oh well. It's a blacked out blur, But I'm pretty sure it ruled. Damn!" he sings, and rips the pillows off of Kurt's face and yanks him out of his bed.

Blaine spins Kurt on the floor. They hold hands and twirl around, Kurt is all docile and adaptive in his arms, letting Blaine play him like a doll, but a small smile is back on his face, and he holds firmly on Blaine's hands, so Blaine has no doubt Kurt enjoys this.

"Last Friday night Yeah we danced on table tops, And we took too many shots. Think we kissed but I forgot. Last Friday night, We went streaking in the park, Skinny dipping in the dark, Then had a ménage a trois!" he belts out, holding Kurt close to him, Kurt's back against his own chest, but he doesn't miss the obvious blush crawling up Kurt's face as Blaine sings about what they might have done last Friday night.

"Did we miss a threesome, or are you just having a party?" someone asks from the door.

"Why, did you want to join?" Kurt drawls back to Wes and David, and Blaine tries to stifle his laughter. It's fascinating how Kurt can blush as Blaine sings about ménage a trois, and moments later he invites his friends to a threesome.

Wes and David seem to be pondering the suggestion for a moment.

"That would make four of us, though," Wes states.

"I'm sure one of you could go to Jeff and Nick instead," Kurt shrugs, and Blaine tightens his grip around the boy's waist to block out his laughter.

"What about Nick and Jeff?" said boys ask as they pop up in the doorway as well.

"Kurt offered your sexual services," David explains. "But Wes and I haven't agreed who will go with which couple."

"This is really disturbing in so many ways," Nick shakes his head.

"I only want to have sex with you, honey!" Jeff says faux upset, embracing his boyfriend and kissing his cheek.

"I can't vouch for Niff, but I'm fairly certain the rest of us aren't going to have sex tonight. However, if someone's up for a study group, I'm game," Blaine interrupts his crazy friends. He hasn't forgotten about Kurt, but he's confident the boy was sulking and bathing in his own nerves earlier, so he hopes this distraction of madness is enough to get him back on track, and go back to prepare for their exams that start on Monday.

"OK, it's about time everybody leaves my room and let me get on with my business. I have some social science books calling my name," Kurt yells, and chases the five boys out of his room.

* * *

Three hours later, Blaine comes back to Kurt's room.

"What have you got there?" Kurt asks, looking up from his books.

"We need a break and some food," Blaine simply states, dumping his treasures in Kurt's bed. He's brought a couple of water bottles, some fruit and biscuits.

"Come on," Blaine rolls Kurt's office chair away from his desk, and sits down on the floor, leaning against his bed.

Kurt gets up from his chair, stretches his body with arm in the air, and whimpers slightly.

"Do you know what I think?"

Kurt shakes his head to make Blaine continue.

"We're tensing too much over our books. I think you need a back rub."

Kurt freezes to a complete still on the middle of the floor.

"Umm… That's OK, you don't have to do that," Kurt mumbles.

"Nonsense, you're in pain, and we can't have any of that, can we?" Blaine gestures for him to come over, and spreads his leg so Kurt can sit down between them.

Hesitantly, Kurt does as he's asked, and carefully sits down. He's even tenser now than when Blaine came in, but the boy runs a finger up his spine. It tickles, making Kurt squeak and Blaine laughs, but at least it makes him loosen up.

Blaine starts with Kurt's lower back, kneading and working his fingers to untangle the muscle knots. Kurt closes his eyes, and sighs deeply.

"This kind of reminds me of mom."

Blaine lifts his hands higher up on his back, but hums, and Kurt takes it as a sign to continue.

"I used to have these growing pains in my legs when I was a kid, and it was often worst when I was about to fall asleep. So my mom would massage my ankles and calves, where it hurt the most. We would talk about anything to get my mind off of my pain."

Blaine gently squeezes his shoulder to show he's listening, but doesn't say anything. Kurt is quiet for a moment, but then he laughs.

"After my mom passed away, dad tried to do the same for me, but he just didn't have the same touch. Luckily, the growing pains faded away at the same time," Kurt chuckles.

"And how am I doing?" Blaine asks, putting in some extra effort on Kurt's shoulder blades.

"Nobody can ever beat my mom. But you're far better than my father," Kurt says cheekily.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Blaine beams. "But I believe it's my turn now," he says and gets up from the floor. He unbuttons his cardigan, and drapes it over Kurt's office chair, before he plops down between Kurt's legs.

"Let me feel your magic, Hummel!"

* * *

"How do we do this?" Wes whispers rushed to David.

"I get Blaine and you get Kurt," the other boy suggests. "And you stay here," he says, looking sternly at Nick and Jeff. The boyfriends just laugh, and slide down along the wall to sit on the floor. Nick curls up between Jeff's legs, and leans heavily against his chest. Jeff plays with his boyfriend's hair while whispering sweet compliments in his ear, making the boy giggle, and they don't look as if they plan to go anywhere soon.

Kurt's door is locked, but as usual Blaine has forgotten to secure his own, so both Wes and David enter his room. David stays silent with his bucket, until Wes has crossed their bathroom and is in Kurt's room.

Wes pretends he's a ninja, and thinks he's sneaking stealthily, slipping himself under Kurt's covers, and wraps the boy in his arms. At the same time Blaine yells in pain, probably from the bucket of snow David has emptied unto his bed. Kurt bolts up, or at least he tries to, but he's captured in Wes' arms.

"Good morning, Kurt! Wes grins madly. Kurt's arms are flailing, and he almost knocks out his friend with his cast.

To save himself from concussion, Wes lets him go and jumps out of bed. Kurt takes a quick look at his phone on the night stand, and groans.

"Wes, it's freaking 3 AM, there's hardly anything good about this," he mutters through his clenched jaw.

"I beg to differ," Wes exclaims insulted. "Look out of your window."

Kurt isn't quite certain why, but he obeys, peaking behind the curtain to see if something's going on outside.

"What am I supposed to be looking for?"

Wes jumps into Kurt's bed, and flings open his window. He scoops up a little snow lying on the window frame with his index finger, and shows it to Kurt.

"So? It's been snowing, it's December, nothing to get excited about," Kurt mumbles, crawling back to his pillows and cover, and trying to ignore the madness keeping him awake.

"Kurt, you don't get it."

"I obviously don't," he mumbles, almost asleep again.

"We're having a snowball fight!" Wes shouts happily.

"OK, you guys do that," Kurt mumbles again.

"And you are joining us," Wes states and yanks off Kurt's dune. He then opens Kurt's wardrobe, and pulls out some warm boots, his coat, a scarf and gloves. He starts dressing the still half sleeping Kurt.

"What? What are you doing?" Kurt's kicking, suddenly more awake.

"Hush, Kurt, this is mandatory Dalton tradition," Wes simply states, and ties the laces on the boy's boots.

* * *

Ten minutes later, six boys are standing in the middle of the snow covered lawn outside the dormitory building. During the evening and night, at least three inches of snow has landed, covering the Dalton grounds in a white fluffy blanket begging to be played with. All boys are still in their pyjamas'.

"The rules are simple. We split up in two teams. If someone from the enemy manages to hit or capture you, you are a member of their team, and must help them attack your old team," Wes and David explain.

"How do we know who's on which team at any time?" Kurt asks, confused about the unfamiliar rules.

"Hmm… Good question, we hadn't though about that," David ponders.

"I guess it's too cold to play shirts versus skins…" Wes thinks out loud.

"How about one team tie their scarves around their heads?" Blaine suggests, and everybody agree on the team uniforms.

They split up in two teams. Nick, Kurt and Wes on one team, and Jeff, Blaine and David on the other team. The last trio will have scarves around their heads. The teams then head in opposite directions, to claim the ends of the snow covered lawn as their respective bases, and plan their strategies.

"OK, so let's start making snowballs while we plot our war plan," Wes suggests, and so they do. Nick stomps on a patch of snow to make a hollow pit where they can store their weapons.

"We need to keep this protected," Nick says, "I don't doubt they'd try to steal our snow balls if we leave them unattended."

"What if two of us run up armed, and attack one of them from two sides? Hopefully we'll outnumber and bombard one of them, and get a new team member?" Kurt suggests.

"Yeah, and in the meantime the third person protects and produces more snowballs," Wes adds.

"And we'll of course take turn in who does what," Nick suggests, and they all nod in agreement.

"OK, let's make some more of these babies until the warning bell chimes and the war commences," Wes grins.

* * *

"Who is their weakest link?" David asks, looking over at their opposing team.

"Nick's aim sucks, so he should be safe to approach," Blaine grins.

"And Wes gets too eager, and blows off all his ammunition at once, so keep your distance, and we can outnumber him when he runs out of snowballs," Jeff chuckles.

"I don't know Kurt that well, but that cast has got to be a handicap for him, right?" David looks at the other boys.

They look at each other for a while, smirking and laughing.

"OK, so Kurt might be the weakest link, but we'll save him for later and try to get a new team member that can help us?" Jeff concludes, playing as captain for the team.

"Wes!" they all grin.

"Now, for the most important part. What is our team name?" Jeff asks solemnly.

* * *

"We need a team name!" Wes exclaims. "We cannot go to war without a team name!"

"Oh, that's easy," Kurt grins. "We're Foxy Arctic, right Nick?"

"Of course we are," Nick answers, high fiving the boy.

"Why is that?" Wes whines, not feeling included in his team member's fun.

"Because," Kurt sighs patiently, "arctic foxes are really cute, we are out in the snow, and we're going to win this fight with a foxy scheme."

"We're sly as foxes, but we are foxy hot as well," Nick adds, snapping his fingers exaggeratedly.

"Me likes!" Wes exclaims, making jazz hands and jumping up and down.

* * *

"We're Team Bumble, of course," David states.

"Do we want to be monsters?" Blaine asks honestly concerned.

"He ends up as a good guy, so that's OK," David shrugs. "Besides, we want our opponents to fear us."

"You make a good point, Warbler David," Blaine nods.

"It's settled, then," Jeff concludes.

* * *

Wes pulls out a small horn from his jacket pocket, and blows it. The sound fills the entire courtyard, and their opposing team straightens up and gets ready on the far end of the white lawn.

Nick and Wes have filled their pockets and arms with hard snowballs, and runs off towards the other team. The trio is walking casually from their base, grinning. The moon is their main source for light and illuminates their playing field. A few of the windows in the surrounding buildings are lit as well; lamps that have been forgotten and neglected. The pale ground is a stark contrast to the dark silhouettes of the six boys.

An eager Wes lets out a warrior scream, and starts throwing his snowballs in the direction of his for the moment intensely hated enemy. Half of the snowballs land on the ground before they are halfway towards the trio, and he can hear them laugh at him.

"I see your strategy hasn't changed since last," David yells at him.

"Hold your fire!" Nick shouts at Wes, frustrated by the boy wasting their superior ammunition. But Wes ignores him, runs even faster, while throwing more snow balls at his annoying best friend.

Wes now is within hitting distance for Team Bumble, and he's got only two snowballs left. The monster team snickers, and as if it's synchronized and rehearsed, they lift their throwing arms in the air, and pepper Wes. Wes manages to dodge the first three snow balls.

"Abort, abort," Nick screams. "I've got your back," he adds, preparing to throw his snow balls at David, Jeff and Blaine. Unlike Wes, he still hasn't gotten rid of any of his weapons.

"We can take them out together," Wes yells with a mad gleam in his eyes.

He throws his second to last snow ball against David, and then aims the next in Blaine's direction. Unfortunately, he doesn't notice he missed David, and Jeff hits him hard in the stomach before he can attack Blaine.

"NO!" Nick screams in pain, watching Wes falling down on his knees. Team Bumble approaches their captive, preparing to change his uniform and tie his scarf around his head. Nick retreats hurriedly back to Kurt.

"They got Wes," he sighs, almost out of breath. "Now it's only you and me."

Kurt scoops up a bunch of snow balls, motioning for Nick to do the same.

"We've got this," Kurt reassures. "Never underestimate the underdog," he grins.

They take two minutes so Nick can catch his breath again, and fill their pockets with more ammunition.

"Let's try to sneak back closer to the buildings, so we stay in the shadow for as long as possible," Nick suggests, and Kurt readily agrees.

They do as planned, and have closed more than half the distance to their enemy when they see the four boys run yelling and screaming from their own base towards Arctic Foxes. The two foxes step out from the shadows, and try to approach them silently, but to no luck. Nick starts throwing his snow balls, but his aim really is shitty. One would think he'd manage to hit, when he has four boys to chose between, but his snowballs land in front of them, between them, to the far off side of them, or even fly over their heads. Nick is peppering them with snowballs. Kurt isn't as effective, as he only has one arm to throw with. Nick is using both hands, firing off like a winter frozen machine gun.

Blaine stands completely still, grinning cockily. He picks up one of the snowballs Nick missed with, and nonchalantly throws it back at Nick. It hits him square in the chest, and he drops backwards with a scream, growling and groaning. Kurt spins back to their base, sighing. He's on his own, now. He kneels in the snow, and it soaks through his pyjamas pants, but he's too focused on the ongoing match to care. His hands automatically starts working on producing more snowballs while his mind is running wild to come up with a new strategy. It's him against five crazy Dalton boys. The odds aren't the best. He goes through the rules Wes and David had put down to look for loopholes.

An idea comes to mind, but Kurt hasn't got a clue on how he can pull it off. He only knows how he pictures the outcome; he doesn't know how to get there. Kurt tucks the pyjama pants down the shafts of his boots to prevent him from stumbling. He takes a deep breath, and then one more. This is it. It's all or nothing, and he's going all in.

Kurt slowly walks across their playing field, carefully looking around him to evaluate and ponder his next steps. He grins as he spots the five enemies of his walking casually towards him, all in one single line, like in a poor spaghetti western. The ever so meticulous Kurt had been taking an uncharacteristic rest from his books, and aimlessly flipped the pages in the latest yearbook in the library of Dalton earlier this week, and he hopes some of the information can turn out valuable right now. He'd seen a picture of Wes, winning the state championship as a track runner, representing Dalton.

The Fabulous Five have almost closed the distance by now, so Kurt does a sudden 180, and runs as fast as he can away from them. He sprints past the main building, around it and towards its front. He knows it's lighter there, but it's also hiding spots in the shadows, behind the benches, among the trees lining up along the short alley from the main gates to the double entrance doors. Kurt stops, shakes his head as if to clear his mind, and throws himself into a Cheerio-worthy salto mortale, flinging himself in the air, and landing far away on his ass. Sylvester would kill him for the finish, but at least he managed to get away from his own tracks, and hopefully is hiding better. He crouches down in a corner, hidden by the big concrete stairs leading up to the entrance. He knows he's trapped if someone spots him, but this is all or nothing.

As expected, he can hear running feet approaching. What are the odds it's the right boy who followed him or finds him first? It has to be Wes, it's his only hope. Kurt never expected to outrun him, he just needed to run fast enough and get the boy away from the others.

"Kurt, come out and play, I know you're here, I can see your footsteps in the snow," Wes sing-songs, and Kurt grins – perfect! Now he has to act fast.

Kurt throws a snowball, directing it far from Wes. The plopping sound of hard snow landing in soft snow, makes Wes turn in that direction – facing away from Kurt. Kurt tries to sneak soundlessly towards Wes. He lifts his uncast arm with a snowball, ready to throw.

"Gavel," he says loudly on a warning note, and Wes spins around. "I've still got your gavel," Kurt repeats when Wes gets ready to attack. "Surrender and I'll give you a new hint to where the gavel is," Kurt smirks, feeling confident about his victory. Wes would have killed him by now if he wanted to.

"Where is it?" Wes growls, and clutches so hard to his snowballs they burst and crumbles in his hands.

"First hint: It is in the least used room in all of Dalton," Kurt smirks. "Second hint…" he drawls, loving the utter expression of anticipation on Wes' face. "Next to the choir room, it was the room I felt the safest in when at McKinley, while at Dalton I've never been there. Oh, except for to hide your precious gavel," Kurt laughs evilly.

Wes groans.

"This doesn't make any sense!" he yells.

"Poor thing," Kurt coos. "So, surrender?" he asks and raises an arm, ready for the kill.

Wes unties the scarf around his head and tucks it in a pocket. "I'm yet again a Foxy Arctic," he sighs.

"Traitor!" Jeff and David yell indignantly as they catch up with the boys. Before Kurt and Wes can make the brain impulses reach their feet, telling them to run away, they are bombarded with snow and have to admit their defeat. Blaine and Nick arrive shortly after, but from the other side of the main building. Obviously, the four boys split up for this attack.

"Well played!" Wes grins, offering a high five. Kurt happily returns it, only to be body tackled to the ground by David. The other boys dive into the human tangle of limbs as well, and nobody can really get anywhere.

* * *

15 minutes later they are back to the dorms, hovering in the common's room of their floor. Kurt and Blaine are rummaging the cupboards to find ingredients for hot chocolate. Blaine finds a battered box with chocolate powder which only needs adding hot water. It's the best they can do for now.

Kurt's shivering in his wet clothes, so Blaine commands everybody to go back to their rooms to change into dry clothes while they wait for the water to boil.

Blaine quickly discards his wet pyjamas, and slips into another pair of pyjamas pants. It's black with some red trimming. He tucks on a Dalton sweater, and finds some thick wool socks for his cold feet. He can hardly feel his toes; loafers weren't the right kind of shoes for this night.

Blaine's heart spins and he has to swallow a big grin when Kurt enters his room. He's wearing a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, a black v-neck that shows off Kurt's chest really nice, and a maroon cardigan Blaine recognizes as his own. He must have forgotten it in Kurt's room earlier that night.

Kurt opens Blaine's minifridge, and helps himself to one of the microwave-dishes they had gotten earlier this week. Blaine can't help but chuckle.

"Don't. Say. A. Word," Kurt mutters. "I'm hungry, OK? Do you want one?" he adds.

Blaine mimics the "my lips are sealed"-motion, but nods at the offer of food.

When they come back to the common's room, David is trying to make the fire place cooperate, and Wes is preparing six mugs of hot chocolate. Nick and Jeff are pulling a couch closer to the promising heat source. Kurt heads for the microwave to prepare their food. They are having a sweet and sour chicken-thingy.

Shortly after, the six boys are resting with hot beverages, and for two of them also hot food. Jeff is sitting in Nick's lap in the couch, next to Kurt and Blaine. Wes and David are lying on the floor between the couch and the roaring fire place, Wes' head resting on David's chest. They've already downed their mugs.

Blaine coughs and clears his throat.

"I have an announcement to make," he smiles, and doesn't miss the eager gleams in the eyes of Wes and David. Nick and Jeff are merely looking expectantly at him, while Kurt is sporting the most confused expression Blaine's ever seen on him. It's actually quite cute.

"Something really big happened today," Blaine chuckles, and he's almost shaking with anticipation, he can't wait to get this off of his chest, but for all the right reasons.

Wes and David have sat up, nodding eagerly for him to continue.

"Five days ago Kurt and I made an important decision, or maybe I should call it an agreement," he smiles bashfully. Wes and David are almost jumping from their sitting positions, Nick and Jeff are trying to lock eyes with both him and Kurt, while Kurt is looking mostly shocked, but also embarrassed.

"No, Blaine, please don't," he whispers, trying to shrink himself and hide behind a throw cushion. But Blaine merely laughs, and wraps an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"You see, guys, young naïve Hummel here thought he could survive the hells and madness of exams here at Dalton. He thought he could survive going through these weeks and still keep up his appearances. His very well dressed, impeccable, impressing and admirable appearances that is, but never the less. He made a bet he wouldn't be caught in sweatpants, and I'm pretty sure he never thought he would eat greasy food heated in a microwave either. And yet, here he is, in what I would consider being a pair of sweatpants," Blaine grins wickedly.

"This isn't fair!" Kurt groans. "It's almost 5 in the morning, I'm tired and cold, I wanted out of my wet clothes, and I want to go back to my bed in comfortable clothes, I dream about being rested for tomorrow," he complains.

"And yet you didn't put on another pair of pyjamas," Blaine says with amusement and wiggles his eyebrows.

"I'm behind with my laundry, OK? Everything's in my hamper, so it was this or jeans."

"I would have thought Kurt Hummel would pick jeans over sweats any day," Jeff speculates.

"Not even I need to sleep in fashionable clothes," Kurt groans. "You are playing it so, so dirty, Blaine," he sighs, and tries to hit his friend, but Blaine manages to capture both his hands.

"You'll survive, Hummel, man up," he chuckles, and yanks the boy into his lap. "Relax and let me take care of you," he soothes, and picks up a warm blanket from the floor, draping it over the both of them. "See, now nobody can see what shameless clothes you're wearing."

Kurt tries to object and get off of Blaine's lap, but the boy is too strong. Seeing Wes resting his head on David's chest again and knowing how snuggled up Nick and Jeff are, Kurt resigns, and lets Blaine cuddle him. If everybody else is doing it, why shouldn't he enjoy this as well?

"So what did exactly the bet entail?" Nick asks after a while.

Blaine can feel Kurt tense up in his arms, and remembers Nick had gotten cookies from his Secret Santa, the same kind of cookies he'd asked for.

"Ah, it's a sweet deal in two parts. The first being an agreement I cannot dwell on for now, and the second part is Kurt here letting me have my wicked way with him…"

Blaine doesn't get to finish the sentence before the other four boys react with loud shouts, whistles and rowdy comments. Kurt had relaxed again when Blaine didn't explicitly mention the cookies, but now he's all tense and strung in Blaine's arms again. He tries to calm down the boys, but they are too excited, so he lets them cool down on their own before he makes any more efforts to clear up the misunderstanding. He knows he's blushing, although he hasn't any reason for it. He slightly loosens his grip around Kurt to give him the opportunity to get off of him if he wants, but the boy is actually shivering in his lap. Blaine runs his hands soothingly up and down Kurt's shoulders and arms.

"It's OK," he whispers reassuringly in Kurt's ear. "They're your friends, we're just joking around, and nobody actually believes this." Blaine doesn't understand why Kurt reacts this way, and makes a mental note to talk with the boy about it later. For now, he focuses on getting him to snap out of it, whatever it is.

It isn't until the other boys have calmed down and Blaine manages to explain he was going to have his "wicked way" with Kurt's wardrobe, that Kurt visibly relaxes. He still doesn't say anything, just laughs awkwardly at the proper moments, while the other boys chat and laugh, soaking up some heat from the fire place.

It doesn't take long before the boys are yawning and retreat to their rooms to get a couple of more hours of sleep before breakfast.

Blaine stops in front of Kurt's door.

"Are you mad at me, Kurt?"

"No!" the boy exclaims surprised, almost offended. "Of course not, why would I be that?"

"Just checking," Blaine smiles carefully. "Hug me goodnight?"

Kurt leans in, and rests his chin on Blaine's shoulder.

"You're a moron," he chuckles.

"Yet you keep spending time with me," Blaine quips.

"I like how sharp and good I look next to you," Kurt exhales easily, and slips into his room before Blaine has the chance to respond, locking the door behind him as usual.

Two minutes later Blaine arrives through the bathroom.

"Rude boy, you must be punished," he smirks.

"Oh, do I now?"

"Indeed."

"And how do you think you're going to _punish_ me?"

Blaine crawls into Kurt's bed.

"By forcing you to keep me warm tonight, of course. I'm still freezing", he simply states, patting the space on the mattress next to him.

Kurt is really tired and really wants to sleep, so he doesn't object, but follows after Blaine.

"You're big spoon," the boy calls, and snuggles closer to Kurt's hesitant body.

Kurt sends a grateful thought to whomever made Blaine such a cuddle monster, and smelts around the boy.

* * *

Lyrics mentioned:

Katy Perry – _Last Friday Night_


	22. Study Groups

**This story is giving me such a blast writing it! I'm blown away by all the feedback I'm receiving - I've reached 100 reviews, I never imagined I'd get that much attention for my silly little story.**

**So, new chapter up, I hope you'll like this as well, although it's a little different.**

**Next chapter will deal with their exams, and as I'm not American and don't know the high school syllabus there, I'd love it if you'd be willing to give me suggestions to some exam questions the boys can get in various topics, maybe I can make some fun and plot out of it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or any musicals. Or video games. Or feminist literature.**

* * *

Kurt is woken up abruptly the next morning by thunderous knocking on his door. He finds himself in Blaine's arms. He's too tired and mentally distant to do anything but acknowledge it, and conclude they must have switched position during the night. A part of Kurt wants to ignore the noise, and enjoy a lazy morning for some more time. But his more or less consciousness fears the door may actually break, so he gets out of bed, resigned and reluctantly. Blaine mumbles something unintelligible, and buries himself deeper into the pillows and cover. Kurt takes a moment to appreciate the sight, and allows himself to daydream for five seconds about a future where this is a daily feature. Well, except for the annoying knocking on the door.

Kurt lets himself shuffle uncharacteristically across the room, opens the door slightly, slips outside and closes the door carefully behind him.

"Hummel, are you hiding a boy in your room?" Wes and David exclaim scandalized.

"It's just Blaine," Kurt mumbles tiredly. He misses the warmth and peace of his bed.

"Ooh, so he got to have his wicked way with you?" Wes grins and wiggles his eyebrows. David high fives him, and they cheer for finally getting the boys together.

"Nah, some other week," Kurt mumbles again. The bet stated Blaine could choose which week he wants to be in charge of Kurt's clothes.

"Boys, what'ya want?" Kurt yawns.

"We want to know why Blaine is in your bed," the two boys snicker.

"Not why you knocked," Kurt mutters.

"OK, we were going to ask if you want to join us for breakfast, but now we want you to come and tell us all about loverboy."

Kurt reaches out an arm to take David's wrists. He misses once, but grabs it on the second try. He yanks the arm towards him to check the time.

"Nope," Kurt shakes his head vigorously and yawns. "You took my sleep, s'only 8. Nightynight," he mumbles and goes back to his room again, locking the door.

He crawls back in bed, and curls up under the covers. Blaine's arm snuggles around his waist, and Kurt sighs contently.

"Who was it?" Blaine whispers sleepily in Kurt's ear.

"Wevid."

"They want?"

"Wicked food."

"OK," Blaine mumbles, and drifts off again.

* * *

Kurt wakes up again almost two and a half hours later. His bed is empty, and he can hear the shower running. Although it would have been kind of nice to wake up properly in Blaine's arms and being conscious enough to actually enjoy it, a part of him is grateful. At least now he can burn in crimson on his own. What the hell happened last night? He knows he didn't dream it; Blaine had insisted on sharing a bed, supposedly because he needed the body heat. Kurt doesn't know if he's buying it. Blaine hadn't felt cold close to him. But why else would he make such a claim?

Kurt had been hesitant to do it, and tried not to get too close to the boy, not wanting to make anything seem awkward between them. Just because Kurt is crushing hard on his best friend, doesn't allow him to force himself on Blaine, and touch him in unwanted ways. So Kurt had tried to keep a foot or so of space between them, but gently resting his slightly sweaty palm on Blaine's waist. The boy, however, obviously didn't have the same resolution as Kurt, and had scooted closer, pulling Kurt's arm tight around him and lacing their fingers. Kurt's intentions had kind of dissolved at that, and he had all but smelted around the other boy, but still tried to keep a couple of inches of free zone between them.

He doesn't remember anything more, until Wes and David had been trying to rip his door off its hinges. But then he found himself in Blaine's arms, so they must have reversed their position during the night. Kurt doesn't think he'll ever forget the feeling when he went back to bed, and lay down with a decent distance to Blaine, his back to the boy. Blaine hadn't accepted that at all, but clung tight to him, arm wrapped around his waist.

Kurt thinks he's slowly going insane. He can't take much more of this. Of Blaine. He doesn't know if he's living a teenage gay dream or a daytime nightmare. Something has to change, soon.

* * *

Kurt takes a moment to enjoy the wild maze of footprints in the snow from the night, on his way to the dining hall, and he smiles fondly. He really feels like one of the guys. Mission Moon had been done for his own good; that was a gift to him from his friends. But the snowball fight he's sure was a result of Wes and David's spontaneous antics, and they had invited – or forced – him to join because they wanted to. The thought makes Kurt smile even wider.

"Kurt, wait up!"

He turns around, and grins at the blonde running towards him.

"Good morning, Jeff!" he greets. "Breakfast?" he asks, and Jeff nods eagerly.

"Has anyone filled you in on today's events?" Jeff asks, and Kurt shakes his head in confusion. Why would anyone have big plans less than 48 hours before the exams start?

"We're organizing study groups for the Juniors, also those not boarding, and you're welcome to join us if you want to."

"I don't know…"

Kurt hesitates. He had a plan for this weekend, and don't feel comfortable about alterations at the last minute.

"What exactly does it entail?"

So Jeff explains about their Dalton tradition, as they help themselves to breakfast and sit down by a free table. It's been a tradition since Freshman year. The last weekend before their exams, they gather to help each other with the finishing touches of their preparations – discussing chosen topics, explaining that last thing you don't understand, clearing up misunderstandings, and so on.

"We use the rooms where Juniors already live, to not disturb anyone younger or older in their studying. Each room is assigned a class, so you know where to go if you want to focus on French or Math or Chemistry or whatever."

Jeff explains how they pin big signs on the open doors to show which subject is done there. If a door is closed, it means it's not part of the study circle. They work from noon to four o' clock, takes an hour off for dinner, and then four new hours before calling it a night.

"That sounds chaotic," Kurt says, voice laced with doubt.

"It really isn't. You stay in a room for as short or for as long as you want, and everyone helps each other."

Kurt is still doubtful.

"It's totally up to you, but I thought you should know what's going on."

"I'll think about it," Kurt says, not wanting to promise anything more. He imagines a ruckus of loud boys, yapping and chatting and gossiping – yes, even boys gossip, and not getting any studying done.

"Hi sweetie," someone says behind Kurt's back, startling him slightly as they hug him from behind.

"Hi boyfriend," the same voice says, and kisses Jeff sitting next to Kurt.

Kurt grins and shakes his head.

"Morning, Nick," he laughs.

"Has my adorable, but yet slightly unfocused, boyfriend remembered to tell you about the plans for the weekend," Nick asks as he sits down opposite of said boyfriend.

"Hey, I'm not that dement," Jeff complains.

"It's fortunate for you, you're ever so cute," Nick sighs slyly, obviously objecting to Jeff's self defence, and leans over the table to peck the boy's forehead.

"He did tell me about the study groups," Kurt adds hurriedly, to defend a flustered Jeff.

Nick looks at him with mock shock, and then looks at Jeff.

"I'm impressed," he says, nudging the boy's foot lovingly with his own. "So what topics do you want to focus on, Kurt?" he asks, successfully adding the boy to the conversation instead of fifth wheeling him.

"I don't know if I'll join you," Kurt shrugs. "I've already made a reading plan for the weekend."

"Ah, I see we have found ourselves a doubting Thomas," Nick nods solemnly, looking at Jeff. "We'll just have to convert him, then?"

"This is the fifth semester we're doing this. Don't you think we would have given up on it if it didn't give any results?" Jeff asks.

"Blaine had initial doubts when he transferred here last year as well, but today his room is the location for European history," Nick points out.

"And that's a sure way to give up on any possibility to study on your own," Jeff adds. "So he's obviously a convert."

"I'll think about it," Kurt nods carefully. It couldn't hurt to try for an hour, right?

He mentally stores the new information Nick unknowingly has provided him with. He thought Blaine had been at Dalton his entire high school career. Again he gets confirmed he doesn't know much about his background at all.

* * *

It's fem minutes to noon, and Kurt is pacing his room, still trying to decide if he'll run solo, or join the others. He had been planning to study European history today, anyway, so there's no harm in crossing their bathroom and try it out. If it doesn't work out for him, he can just leave, and continue on his own. And if he's lucky, he'll actually get something out of the discussions.

"Hey Kurt!" Blaine greets him with a big smile.

They had missed out on each other during breakfast, so they haven't seen each other since early in the morning after Wevid woke Kurt up. So far there are no other people in Blaine's room.

"Knowing you, you have a plan," Blaine grins teasingly.

Kurt huffs.

"Of course I do," he scoffs.

He quickly scans Blaine's room, and decides to sit down on the floor, leaning against the bed. He dives down to rummage his satchel, and emerges back with his notebook. He's developed an impressive skill at dotting readable key words with his unharmed arm.

"Are you staying, or did you have other plans?" he asks, and cringes at how it sounds as if he's trying to chase Blaine out of his own room.

"I think I'm staying, actually," Blaine answers immediately. "This isn't my strongest class," he adds in afterthought.

"OK, I don't know if I can be of any help for that brilliant mind of yours, but I'm here anyway, so…"

"What do you want to focus on?"

"The French revolution," Kurt answers with certainty. No way can the teachers avoid that on their exam?

"Ah, Les Misérables," Blaine sighs, and closes his eyes.

"_On my own, Pretending he's beside me. All alone I walk with him 'till morning. Without him I feel his arms around me. And when I lose my way I close my eyes And he has found me_," Blaine sings softly, and Kurt gets a sudden urge to just shake some sense in the boy, make him open his eyes, and see that he is not alone, it isn't just a dream if he wants it to be real, I found you, please find me too.

Instead, he turns to his sassy wit.

"Seriously, Blaine? If that's going to be your level of contribution, I'm going back to my room."

"I'm sorry, I'll behave," Blaine apologizes earnestly. "But don't you sometimes just think in the language of music?"

Kurt glares at him.

"Yes, and sometimes I think in French, but I believe this room isn't in the language department."

Blaine grabs two bottles of water from his minifridge, and plops down in front of Kurt, handing him one of them.

At the same time, three other juniors enter the room. They're not in the Warblers, but Kurt recognizes their faces, probably from some class or in the hallways. He doesn't know their names, though.

"What are you discussing?" one of them ask, and Blaine gives them their topic.

"Cool. We'll tackle second world war over here," he smiles, and the three of them sit down on some chairs Blaine had picked up from a classroom for the occasion.

Blaine turns his attention back to Kurt again.

"So, I think we both know the why and the how and the facts for the French revolution, but I'd like to see the bigger lines. What happened afterwards, what consequences did it have, and how can we see the result of the revolution today. I don't think it's necessarily right to see it as a French revolution, because it had impact on Europe and further."

"Oh, I completely agree," Kurt chimes. "It's impossible to study the revolution as something isolated and pure French. _Liberté, égalité, fraternité_ was a sentiment you found across the borders. Just look at Mary Wollstonecraft's _A Vindication of Women's Right_, written only a few years before the French revolution."

"And she wasn't the only one," Blaine adds, and lists a number of French, British and German substantial thinkers and philosophers.

"But she was one of few women," Kurt points out, and Blaine has to agree it gives her a special position.

"A lot of people know Simone de Beauvoir and her _The Second Sex_, but forget all about Wollstonecraft and her essay 150 years earlier. She addressed a lot of the same issues, and de Beauvoir must have read her," Kurt states.

"It's sad that two feminists 150 years apart are fighting more or less the same battles," Blaine sighs.

"It's bloody depressing, that's what it is," Kurt snorts. "But I try to focus on the progress that has been achieved. You can't be friends with Tina without learning about these things," he grins impishly.

"Progress is good, but there are still a lot of inequality and discrimination in society."

"Do you think it's written yet, the book we'll talk about in fifty-sixty years which made a great impact for gay liberation?"

"There's a book that's meant a lot to me, but it's not so accessible and mainstream. I don't think it'll be found in the common bookshelf, but I still think it'll be remembered in five-six decades. Have you heard about Judith Butler and her _Gender Trouble_?"

"The name is familiar, but I haven't read the book," Kurt says slowly, trying to remember anything.

"She's using her experiences from the gay activist community, but her book is more theoretical than empirical. But it really made me think when I read it the first time, and it still makes me think. You should give it a try," Blaine suggests, and gets up from the floor to find the book in his bookshelf.

"She's actually inspired by the French philosopher Michel Foucault, who in turn has read his Simone de Beauvoir, so I believe we've completed the circle," Blaine grins.

"Thank you," Kurt accepts the book. "I hardly think I'll have time to read it before Christmas, but you recommend it, so I will without doubt give it a shot as soon as I can."

"You know, a lot has changed in 50 years, in 150 years. People don't read as much anymore, and we get our ideas and opinions from other sources than books," Blaine ponders, and sits down next to Kurt, leaning against his bed.

"Has it really changed that much? During the French revolution they made illegal newspapers and pamphlets under pseudonyms, and today we have anonymous blogs and online discussion forums instead."

"I can agree on that argument, but there are still other cultural sources influencing us, like music and TV."

"I'd like to nuance that, and say _some_ music and _some_ TV-shows have a valuable message," Kurt snorts.

"I know you're just dying to dish something or someone out now," Blaine chuckles.

"Well, what kind of political issues is Katy Perry proclaiming, you think?"

"Having fun and enjoying life?" Blaine suggests, laughing.

"Yeah, that's bound to give her Nobel's Peace Prize," Kurt snorts again.

"Who'd you nominate, then?"

"Well, blatantly skipping over all the important protest singers from the 1960's and 1970's, I'd immediately suggest Lady Gaga and P!nk as current political performers. Not to mention Miss Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone."

"Oh, I know, did you hear what happened after her concert in Russia?" Blaine almost jumps in eagerness.

"I did, and it's insane. I'm horrified."

The boys have talked louder and louder, and gotten the attention from the other boys in the room.

"What happened to Madonna in Russia?" one of them asks. Kurt thinks his name is Walther.

"Oh, where do I ever begin?" Kurt sighs, flailing his arms dramatically.

"Their president has formally banned Pride march for the next 100 years in Moscow, the capital. The punk band Pussy Riot spoke up against this, and the three women got sentenced two years in prison, because of their** '**homosexual propaganda'," Blaine explains calmly, although his hands are shaking, and there's a slight tremble in his voice.

"Madonna gave her support to Pussy Riot, so she got sued for 10 million dollars, and her concert was threatened," Kurt sighs. "President Putin yields a lot of power in Eastern Europe, so we obviously fear this will be a huge setback for the gay community in several other countries as well."

"Wow, that's just…" Walther shakes his head, obviously struggling for words. "A hundred year long ban? It's…"

"We know," Blaine smiles sadly, and leans his head on Kurt's shoulder.

"It's a disgrace you have to fight for your rights like that. It's just love," Walther shrugs. "It's a good thing you have each other, at least. But what can we do for Russian gays?"

"Obviously Madonna has managed to draw a lot of attention to this, so it got media coverage. Online petitions, facebook groups, and awareness in the gay community internationally is hopefully keeping this a hot potato, but I guess a major power source is needed to put pressure on Putin for him to change, like president Obama or the UN," Blaine explains.

"I won't contest how interesting this discussion is, but what is the likelihood of us being asked about it for our history exam?" Kurt interjects.

Blaine smiles bashfully, and lowers his eyes to his lap.

"What connections can you see between the French revolution and the industrial revolution?" he asks, back on track.

The boys continue to discuss topics related to the enlightenment and important events in the 19th century, and they are so immersed with each other's opinions they hardly notice when someone leaves or enters the room. It isn't until Blaine's stomach growls loudly they stop to check the time, and it turns out it's a quarter past dinner. Laughingly, they run to the dining hall.

* * *

After dinner, Kurt and Blaine decide to go to the room for political science. They briefly go back to their earlier discussion about ways to influence president Putin, before they continue to evaluate the voting system in the States.

Later on, Wes and Jeff join them, and the four drill each other in the summary questions at the end of each chapter of their books.

"That's it. I don't want to hear one more word about _legislative power_," Blaine sighs, and sprawls out on the bed he's occupying. "My brain is boiling."

Kurt is still flicking through his books, looking for things he's overlooked. He feels he can't afford to lose a single minute preparing for the exams.

"I agree," Wes chimes in. "I think we can safely call it a day."

The boys gather their belongings, and get up to leave the room.

"Movie time in the common's room?" Jeff asks eagerly.

"Of course," Wes smiles wide. "Don't we always finish these days that way?"

The three boys head for the common's room, but Kurt goes in the opposite direction back to his own room. He's hoping he can work on some math before he has to go to bed, it's only nine o' clock in the evening.

"And where do you think you're going?" Nick asks, exiting Blaine's room.

"I believe I live here," Kurt cocks one eyebrow.

"That may be so, but you're banned from entering."

Kurt cocks his second eyebrow.

"You, my friend, need to cool down your poor brain, or it'll go into shock when the exams are handed out on Monday. You're coming with me." Nick touches his shoulder to steer him towards the common's room.

"I can't, I really need to work with some math questions."

The boys are interrupted by Nick's phone. He quickly checks the text, and grins.

"Kurt, this is Blaine ordering me to make sure you join us for movie night, and I quote 'get his fabulousness out of his room before his books feel abused.' And you wouldn't want to defy Blaine, would you?" Nick grins wider.

Kurt glares at him.

"That's the poorest attempt at blackmail I've ever encountered," Kurt snorts, and enters his room, dropping his satchel by the desk.

"But think about Blaine's sad eyes when you don't show up."

"I feel confident he'll survive."

"Kurt," Nick says, voice covered with worry. "I'm not going to force you to watch a stupid movie. But you need to cool down and relax a bit. You're pushing yourself too far, and it will hurt you in the end."

"I'm just scared," Kurt sighs, and plops down on his bed, stretching his tired body.

"What are you afraid of?" Nick lies down next to his friend.

"I feel I have to get great results on the exams. I don't want my parents to think they're wasting their money. I don't want the teachers to see me as a stupid, broken kid. I want to be your equal. I want to succeed with my education, and I don't want _this_ and everything that happened to ruin everything for me," Kurt explains, and lifts his cast.

"What was your main reason for transferring?"

Kurt frowns at the random question, but answers anyway.

"Safety, or the lack of it."

"Do you feel safe now?"

Kurt nods eagerly.

"Then I think we can conclude your parents aren't wasting their money. And as for being equal. Kurt, don't you understand we already see you as one of us? We want you to be our friend, but we want you to be _you_ as well," Nick smiles, and Kurt can't help smiling laughingly back at him.

"You're a pretty good friend."

"Oh Hummel, you flatter me, I would have been pleased with just being pretty," Nick sighs, fluttering his eyelashes.

"But seriously, calm down. Nobody thinks you're stupid, and I needed time to adjust when I transferred mid semester. You should talk to Blaine about this as well, he experienced the same. Maybe he can convince you, you seem to do wonders for each other."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asks confused, wrinkling up his forehead, sitting up and swinging his legs out of bed.

"Kurt, you're doing a duet in one week on the _Christmas Ball_!" Nick explains, getting up and standing next to Kurt's bed.

"Yeah, you've made a deal of it before. I don't understand why you don't think I'm good enough," Kurt says sadly, looking downcast.

"Kurt!" Nick exclaims shocked, freezing his movements. "That's not it _at all_! I thought you knew about..." Nick stops himself.

"Knew about what?"

"How much do you know about Blaine's pre-Dalton history?" Nick asks carefully.

"Almost nothing, I've realized. Why? Are there something I should know?"

"It isn't my story to tell," Nick shakes his head sadly. "But you should talk with Blaine about it. Suffice to say, we're all surprised to learn Blaine _offered_ to sing at the ball."

"He's a modest guy and all, but I assumed he sings on all of these occasions," Kurt shrugs.

"Kurt," Nick says sternly. "Blaine has never even gone to any of the Dalton dances, and definitely not performed at them."

Kurt slowly sinks back to sit on his bed.

"What? Why?"

"Just talk with him. But Kurt, don't do it now. Wait until after the exams, so he can stay focused on them."

"You're scaring me, Nick, this seems big. Should I cancel the duet?"

Nick sits down next to Kurt.

"No, sing with Blaine and have fun, dance and let the magic happen," Nick smiles, but there's a hint of sadness.

"I don't know if I'm convinced…"

"Kurt, he asked you to do it with him, and you're important to Blaine. Let him have a nice time too," Nick almost begs.

"OK," Kurt hurries. "OK. And I won't talk to him about it until later."

"Good," Nick exhales deeply. "So, are you up for a movie now?"

* * *

Nick and Kurt arrive the common's room together, but the other boys aren't watching a movie as expected.

Standing in front of the big widescreen with a red plastic rifle, is Wes. He's aiming at some ducks flying across the screen, but apparently he shoots too quick and too often, and misses a lot. A big dog is chuckling at his clumsiness.

"What's that?" Nick asks curiously

"_Duck Hunt_," David explains, taking a break from his efforts at alluring more ducks to come flying, with his own improvised duck impersonations.

Kurt has played enough video games with Finn and the boys to see this is a really old game. The graphics are sub par, and the sound effects are obviously simple and mono.

"How Commodore," Kurt comments, earning a few appreciative looks from some of the boys, and Cameron offers a high five as he passes him to refill his coffee mug. Kurt accepts the high five and shakes his head with amusement. Sometimes it takes absolutely nothing from him to surprise the boys, and he loves to break the stereotype.

"It's a classic 1980s game, and I found it on eBay, so I just had to buy it," Thad beams excitedly from the couch, and Kurt remembers he was the one who played all the 1980s music during their victory party, and Wes accused him of being stuck in that decade.

"Wanna give it a shot, Nick?" Wes asks when he's had enough of the mocking dog.

"Sure," he says and accepts the rifle Wes is offering him. Jeff immediately jumps up from his seat in the couch, skipping over to his boyfriend.

"Need some help, love?"

"Sure," Nick answers coyly, fluttering his eyelashes, and he actually has a subtle blush covering his cheek bones.

Kurt plops down in the couch where Jeff was sitting, between Blaine and Thad.

Jeff stands behind Nick, hands on his boyfriend's hips, and helps him get in position. He gently shoves and shuffles the boy, so he's standing with wide legs, but his right leg in front of the other, to give him better balance and flexibility. Kurt watches as Jeff is running his hands up from Nick's hips to his shoulders. He turns the boy's torso slightly to give him better aim, and pushes his shoulders to straighten him up. Jeff kisses Nick's neck, and lets his hands run down the other boy's arms, lifting them a couple of inches. Considering how terrible his aim was during the snowball fight, it's quite the paradox he's trying to help Nick with this game.

"Ready?" he says so softly Kurt hardly can hear him, and Nick nods.

Ducks fly across the screen, and Nick fires. He misses more than he hits, but Kurt suspects it's to make sure Jeff doesn't leave, but instead will continue to stand close to him and steer his arms with the rifle.

Kurt is watching them with amusement, they are too cute with their flirting and PG rated touches. There's so much love between the two boyfriends, and it makes Kurt smile.

He turns his head to look at Blaine, because he doesn't think he should be staring that much at his friends having a moment. Blaine is looking in their direction as well, but he looks almost sad.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks carefully, nudging his friend's shoulder.

Blaine looks at him, putting on a smile, but there's a yearning in his eyes.

"I just want what they're having…"

Kurt looks back at Nick and Jeff, and the latter is embracing his boyfriend from behind, while the former is killing ducks, and Jeff is mocking the sulking dog. Nick successfully finishes the level, and turns around beaming at his boyfriend. Jeff plants a sloppy kiss on his lips.

"You will, Blaine. We both will," Kurt assures him.

Blaine rests his head on Kurt's shoulder.

"I can't wait to get out of Ohio…"

"I know," Kurt sighs.

"Kurt, have you played this before?" Nick interrupts their duet of momentarily sulking.

Kurt shakes his head.

"Nope, never."

"Wanna try?"

"Sure," he shrugs, reaching out his hand to accept the rifle.

"Don't you want to stand up and be closer? It'll be easier to hit the ducks," Thad suggests from next to him.

"Nah, I'm not that dedicated to video games, I'll just fire off from here," he shrugs.

Blaine lifts his head away from Kurt to not disturb his aim or concentration.

Kurt crosses his left leg over his right knee, and leans back in his seat, rifle resting against his temple as if he's scratching his forehead with it. The ducks start flying across the screen, and he carelessly aims and shoots. Three ducks in a row drops dead to the ground, and the dog gives him the thumbs up.

"Hey, you're good!" Thad praises.

"You sure you haven't played this before?" Cameron asks.

"I'm sure, I've never seen this game before."

"And you said you're not into gaming?" Jeff double checks.

"Doesn't mean I haven't _done_ my fair share of gaming, though," Kurt snickers, thinking about all the times he's appeased his step brother and joined him to duel in Call of Duty tournaments.

"You sly vixen!" Blaine snickers from Kurt's other side, and Kurt winks at him.

"You know me so well!"

The boys end up watching Eddie Murphy's stand up show _Raw_, in honour of his recent resurrection.

* * *

**Lyrics from**

Les Misérables – _On My Own_


	23. Exams

**AN: Thank you so much for all the love you gave me after my last chapter! It was like a dream, checking my mail and getting all the wonderful reviews and feedback.**

**So, I know a lot of you are worked up on the season premiere, but as I don't live in the States I won't be able to see season 4 for a while yet. Please leave my story spoiler free, and don't ruin any fun for me when I eventually get to see what happens. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

* * *

"I take it we've managed to convert you?" Nick grins triumphantly by the breakfast table.

Jeff leans his head on Nick's shoulder, yawning and looking ever so tired. Nick absentmindedly wraps an arm around his boyfriend and tugs him closer as if it's second nature to him, and it probably is.

"I won't deny you're awfully cute and have something worth envying, but I was gay a long time before I came to Dalton," Kurt smirks at his friends.

"Snap, and I really thought this was gay Hogwarts," Wes burst out scandalized.

"I'm afraid not, Dalton's merely chipper," David sighs.

Wes rests his hand on the table, and links his pinky with David's.

"Do you… Do you think our love can overcome this school?"

His eyes are pleading with David.

"Do your girlfriends know they are your beards?" Kurt asks quizzically.

"Oh, I'm not seeing Celia anymore," Wes shrugs, obviously not feeling very blue about it.

"And Sharon understands how important Wes is to me," David explains.

"I think this _school_ is your best beard, come to think about it," Kurt drawls.

"What's up, guys?" a cheerful Blaine greets them as he joins them by the table.

"Kurt is mocking our relationships," Wes sighs insulted.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, I believe he called the two of us, and I quote, 'awfully cute'," Jeff grins.

Blaine turns towards Kurt, clutching his open palm over his own heart.

"I'm so proud of you," he says earnestly, but winks.

Kurt just rolls his eyes, and takes a look on Blaine's tray. There's nothing but a banana and a glass of water there.

"What's up with the diet?"

"Pardon?"

Blaine looks confused on his more than simple breakfast; usually he would load Finn-worthy portions of food on his plates.

"Oh, no diet," he says, shivering as if the thought scares him. "But I'm headed out for some jogging, and didn't want to fill up my tummy for that."

"Are you OK, Blaine?" Wes asks, and Kurt is surprised by the sincere concern in his voice. Sure it seems a bit weird to spend a Sunday morning jogging in the freezing winter, but that's no reason to worry that much.

"Don't freak out, Wes, it's just a harmless physical exercise to get out some pent up energy," Blaine laughs, but Kurt thinks it's a bit strained. "It's healthy, maybe you'd like to try it once."

Somehow Kurt wonders how innocent and harmless the jogging really is.

Blaine quickly finishes his limited food, and bids the guys farewell. Kurt looks at the four guys around him to study their reactions to Blaine's behaviour. Jeff is cuddling Nick, but the latter seems distant. David is suspiciously busy with his pancakes. But Wes is watching Blaine leave, with a serious frown on his face. Kurt quickly turns around to see if he can notice something unusual, but his friend has already left the dining hall.

"I believe we were trying to establish who around this table are gay and not," Kurt says to get the conversation going again. The atmosphere around the table seems weird, and he doesn't like it at all.

"Yes," Nick hisses eagerly. "The convert! Will you participate in study groups today, or did we scare you off?"

Kurt laughs, sincerely, and lifts his hands in surrender.

"You've got me, I'm convinced and converted. I expected it to be chaotic and ineffective, but I'm blown away by the good discussion and meticulous studying we got done."

"Well, duh, we do want to ace our exams," Nick shrugs.

"So, what groups will you guys join today?" Jeff asks.

"Definitely math for a couple of hours, as _someone_ prevented me from that last night," Kurt says, looking pointedly at Nick. The boy doesn't look sorry at all.

"I think I'll be doing French all day, that stuff is killing me," Wes sighs.

"Je suis désolé j'ai besoin de vos funérailles," Kurt pouts.

"Huh?"

"Trés bien…"

* * *

Blaine holds Kurt back after dinner, as their friends leave the table, asking if he has a minute to spare.

"Always, Blaine, how can I help you?"

"How is your studying going? Do you feel prepared?"

"I do, actually. I need a couple of hours with physics, and then I think I'm ready for whatever Dalton wants to throw in my direction," Kurt smiles, talking more confidently than he feels, though, but he doesn't want to worry anyone. Besides, he's beginning to realize there's not much more he can do mere hours before the exams start. "And you?"

"I'm perfectly prepared," Blaine grins cockily. "I was just wondering if you'd mind getting out of study group an hour early and head out to get some coffee with me? I need a decent cup of the black gold before this week, and campus coffee just won't do."

Kurt doesn't even need to think about it.

"I'd love to, it'll be good to get out of these buildings for a moment."

"Great, meet you by the main entrance at eight?" Blaine beams.

"That's a d…" Kurt stops himself in time to avoid embarrassment. "…deal," he finishes, quickly collecting himself.

* * *

It's half past seven when Kurt excuses himself from the room where they are studying physics. He hurries to his room to dump books and notes on his desk, and quickly adds some changes to his outfit. He may have lost Blaine's bet, but the boy hasn't been able to catch him in sweats after that. It's been a wonderful weekend, staying at Dalton _and_ staying out of his uniform. His clothes love him for taking them out of the overcrowded wardrobe. He's been sporting a pair of jeans and a simple button up all day, being laidback and casual after all. He adds a slim fitting vest and a nice scarf. He doesn't know where Blaine wants to go, but it has to be somewhere public. Kurt does some repair work on his hair, before he steps into his lace-free boots, grabs his coat, wallet and phone, and heads for the main entrance.

He arrives three minutes to eight, but Blaine is already waiting for him.

"Hey, sorry I kept you waiting," he apologizes breathlessly. He may have walked fast-on-the-border-to-running-which-we-don't-do-in-Dalton-hallways to get here in time.

"Oh, don't worry, I just arrived myself, and we don't have to stress. This is about calming down," he smiles serenely.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asks, and holds the door open for Blaine to enter.

"Do you mind going back to _Granny's_?"

Kurt smiles widely, he remembers fondly the old fashioned and quaint café they had visited during Kurt's first weekend at Dalton.

"I'd love to," he says sincerely, as they walk towards the parking lot and Blaine's car.

Blaine unlocks the car with the key button as they approach his snow covered vehicle. He pops up the car trunk and rummages through an assorted amount of stuff, until he finds a brush, and starts sweeping the snow off of the window on the passenger side.

"Do you have an ice scrape, so I can help?"

"Here, you can step inside, you'll be somewhat warmer than if you keep standing out here," Blaine offers, and opens the newly wiped passenger door.

Kurt just glares at him.

"Will you tell me where you keep your ice scrape? Or else I'll look for it myself."

Blaine looks at him for a moment, then sighs and closes the door.

"It's awfully hard being a gentleman with guys like you having their own opinions and all," he chuckles.

"I'm no damsel in distress, Blaine."

Blaine turns up from the trunk, and closes the lid, ice scrape in hand.

"Oh, I know," he winks. "Huh. As you are a son of a mechanic, maybe I should be the one sitting warm in the car…" he adds in afterthought.

"Well, it wouldn't kill anyone if you turn the ignition and blast the heater, _sweetheart_," Kurt mocks, and starts working on the ice on the windows where Blaine has removed the snow.

"But what about the ozone layer?" Blaine exclaims. "Think about our kids' future."

"We're gay, Blaine, who knows if we'll ever get to have kids?"

"OK, let's think about our nieces and nephews, then."

Kurt shivers from the thought.

"Finn Jr's? Seriously? Crank up the car, Blaine!" he yells, making the other boy laugh until he's doubled over.

Finally the car is barren for snow and ice. It really didn't take that much time; it's still early in the winter.

The heater is working on full speed to thaw their cold noses, and it makes so much noise it almost drowns out the radio. Kurt leans over to the stereo and adjusts the volume. They are singing to whatever plays, currently a No Doubt-song.

Blaine quickly glances over at the stereo panel, and hurriedly adjusts the volume one down.

"I'm sorry, was it too loud?" Kurt asks puzzled. He didn't think it was that loud, it's still possible to talk over the music, and they weren't really talking at all, just singing.

"No, no, we can crank it up more if you want. Not just… It's just…"

Blaine fumbles with his hands, fingers tapping restlessly on the steering wheel, and he chews on his bottom lip. Kurt senses a good story.

"Spill it, Blaine," he says teasingly, and turns in his seat towards Blaine.

Blaine swallows heavily, and his eyes darts everywhere but at him. Kurt is tempted to adjust the volume one up, just to see what happens.

"Idonttrustthirteen," Blaine rushes out.

"Come again?"

Blaine sighs and points at the stereo panel.

"The volume, it's on twelve now. That's fine. And I don't mind if you crank it up to fourteen or more."

Blaine is pointedly staring straight ahead of him. Kurt has to think for a moment, but then it dawns on him.

"Blaine," he says fondly. "You're superstitious?" It isn't a question, really, why else should Blaine avoid that single number in his car?

"It's just a safety precaution," he says defensively. He's too determined watching straight ahead, and doesn't see the smile on Kurt's face.

"All the best actors and performers are," Kurt shrugs. "You'll fit in perfectly."

Blaine finally looks at Kurt, with an almost shocked expression.

"Do you… You think I could be a performer?"

"Blaine, darling, with your brain, looks and talent you can be anything you want."

"Aww, you think I'm pretty - without any make-up on!" Blaine sing-songs.

"So you're taking me to Cali to get drunk on the beach?" Kurt asks, and feels pretty proud of his comeback and lack of blushing.

"Yup," Blaine pops the P. "I've kidnapped you for a road trip, hopefully we'll be back in time for the exams on Thursday," Blaine grins.

"But…" Kurt begins. "You promised me coffee. Will I still get coffee?" he asks worried.

"Sure, I know about a great place in Chicago."

"Oh, good then," Kurt sinks lower down in his seat, getting comfortable, and sighs pleased.

Five minutes later, Blaine stops at a parking place. _Granny's_ is in a car free street, so they have a ten minutes walk ahead of them. Kurt doesn't mind, the snow covered streets are quite picturesque. Lamp posts lighten their path. All the Halloween decorations that covered the shop windows last time Kurt was in Westerville are now gone, and have been replaced with Christmas decorations. Kurt slows down to enjoy as much as possible of the window exhibitions. Blaine stops shortly after, and turns around towards his friend.

"What is it?"

"I just really like Christmas, and I hadn't realized how close we are to the holiday."

"Dalton can be a bit of a bubble, isolating us from the rest of the world," Blaine says, and they walk slowly down the narrow street.

"I think I've been in an exam bubble, as well. But if I went home every day, I would at least notice the preparations done there."

"Do you regret anything?"

"No," Kurt says with conviction, and stops up completely. "No regrets. Doesn't mean I'm not homesick now and then, though."

Blaine smiles at him and rests his hand on Kurt's lower back, steering him towards _Granny's_ again.

"Maybe we'll have to make some Christmas at Dalton before the Ball, to get in the right mood," Blaine suggests.

"I'd like that," Kurt smiles.

"Good, I'd say we have a plan, then," Blaine says and forces up the old, squeaky door to _Granny's_. The two boys are welcomed by an overwhelming smell of cinnamon, hot chocolate, ginger, spruce and fireplace.

"Or maybe we can just come here," Kurt adds.

The two boys make their orders, both choosing hot chocolate with whipped cream _and_ mini marshmallows, and a couple of gingerbread men with green glazing. They justify some gorging this close to their exams.

"Screw coffee, I'm in the mood for Christmas," Blaine concludes, and pays for the both of them. Kurt tries to swat his money away, but Blaine insists, reasoning he should pay when he was the one who asked Kurt to join.

The boys climb up the narrow and steep wooden stairs, and find a free couch in front of a lively fire.

They talk about everything and nothing in particular, all easy and uncomplicated topics. This isn't an evening for heavy conversation. They also carefully avoid talking about anything related to their upcoming exams, as the main goal now is to relax. They're in the middle of a discussion about their dream apartments in New York, when Kurt's phone buzzes.

He picks it out of his pocket, reads the text, and looks confused at Blaine. The boy is leaning against the armrest on the couch, hands around his almost empty mug of hot chocolate.

"Blaine, why did I receive a text from you?"

"Are you sure it's from me?"

Kurt double checks which number is saved under Blaine's entry in his contact list.

"See for yourself," he offers, showing Blaine the details.

"Huh. That's my number," he says, and pats his pockets. "I may have forgotten the phone on my desk… What does the text say?"

"I haven't even read it yet, I got sidetracked when I saw who it's from."

Kurt opens the text, reads it, grins, and shows it to Blaine.

_Dearest Kurtsy, I think you've forgotten to tell me where you hid the gavel, and as your super cute almost-roomie I really deserve to know that secret. XOXOXO Blainers_

"So Wes thinks I'm super cute and that I write like a twelve year old," Blaine hums.

"He's pathetic," Kurt laughs. "But what do I answer?"

Blaine grins and makes a grabby movement with his hand. Kurt gives him his phone, and watches patiently while Blaine types out a reply.

_I do hope you're kidding with me. I gave you the gavel to hide. You better remember where you put it, or Wes will rip you a new one! Prove you still have it, or I'm telling Wes. Not so cute now, are you?_

"Send it!" Kurt urges eagerly.

Not even a minute later, Kurt gets a new text from "Blaine".

_Kidding! It's still in the same place, you can trust me._

They grin at each other.

"I wonder what he'll do if I happen to forget my phone somewhere soon," Kurt chuckles.

"I honestly don't know where you put that gavel, so that could be fun to mess around with."

* * *

Blaine stops in front of Kurt's door.

"Thank you for doing this, I really needed to get out of here and do something completely different. I'm sorry it got so late, though."

"Not a problem, Blaine. I didn't know, but I needed it too. And curfews aren't applied this week anyway, so."

"Promise me you'll go straight to bed?"

"Promise. You too?"

Blaine nods, and opens his arm, offering a hug. Kurt doesn't hesitate, but leans into the warm embrace.

* * *

His alarm clock chimes angrily Monday morning, and Kurt stays in bed for two more minutes, staring at the ceiling. Today is the day when he'll have his first Dalton exam. He tries to feel, but there's not much to feel yet. He had expected to be nervous, petrified, anxious, afraid, stressed, or something like that. But he mostly feels relaxed and resigned. This is it, he can't do anything more, but he doesn't think he's doomed either.

Blaine has finished his routines in the bathroom, and enters Kurt's room to help him with the finishing touches. He tightens the tie and smoothes the lapels of his blazer, and for a moment Kurt is brought back to his spying encounter. His cast makes him still stick out like a sore thumb, with the exceptions and special exam precautions made for him, but it's OK.

"You ready?" Blaine asks, and Kurt nods.

They leave Kurt's room together. They have thirty minutes to eat breakfast and find the right room, before their exam starts.

"Would you mind coming to my room around eight for a debriefing?" Blaine asks as they enter the dining hall.

"Sure," Kurt replies, silently wondering what Blaine is up to.

They sit down by their usual table, and the six guys seem to have become a solid, regular bunch. They almost always spend the meals together, and nobody ever asks to sit in one of the six chairs by their table if someone's running late. They are an entity. Today they are muted, though. Nobody say anything, but stay lost in their own thoughts. Kurt has lost his appetite, but he doesn't worry. His exam will be quickly over, so he can eat later. He's more worried about his friends, who'll sit with the assignments for five hours.

He bumps Blaine's shoulder with his own after having watched for several minutes how a fork with scrambled eggs and bacon has stopped halfway between Blaine's plate and mouth.

"Not long ago _someone_ mentioned something about force feeding someone who didn't eat enough," he quips.

"Oh," Blaine blushes. "That was me, wasn't it?" he asks sheepishly.

"Do you prefer trains or planes?" Kurt asks, and takes the fork out of Blaine's grip. He carefully bobs the fork up and down a couple of times.

"Huh?" he asks dumbly.

"And here comes the choo choo train into the tunnel," he coos, shoving the fork into Blaine's perplexed and open mouth. "Chew and swallow, such a good boy!"

Blaine shoots an embarrassed glare at the four laughing boys around him.

"I know how to eat, you know."

"Prove it!" Kurt challenges, and he isn't satisfied until Blaine has finished his entire plate.

* * *

Kurt meets up in the same room as the rest of his class, and sits down by a desk next to Blaine. There's a tense silence in the room, and the air is heavy with anticipation. Nobody dares to speak a word. Some of the boys are desperately reading their books, flicking through pages to find the saving sentence that will complete and perfect their rapidly approaching European history exam. Nick looks as if he's taking a power nap, with his head resting on folded arms on his desk. Jeff is rubbing small circles on his boyfriend's back with his hand, smiling fondly at the other boy. Wes and David are doing some weird gestures with their right hands, wiggling the fingers and shaking loose, as if they need to warm up their writing hand before the five hour long exam. Blaine sits patiently by his desk, hands resting on his right knee, which is crossed over his left knee. His head is tilted a touch to the right, as if he's listening carefully to something. Kurt imagines he's discussing highlights from their syllabus with himself.

Although Kurt's had the chance to look at earlier given exams, he still doesn't feel confident about what to expect. So he sits still by the desk, focusing on breathing evenly, and not panicking until he's seen the questions. He has closed his eyes, listening to his own heart beats.

"Good luck, Kurt."

The whispered words in his ear startle him, and Kurt opens his eyes in time to see their teacher entering the class room.

"You too," he whispers hurriedly back to Blaine, and smiles.

Their teacher greets them, and explains the rules and time frame for them. They then get the question sheets handed out, and a teacher assistant approaches Kurt to bring him and the questions to another room.

"You get an hour for preparation before your teacher comes to do the oral examination. You're not allowed to use any books or aids, and I kindly ask you to take out anything you may need from your bag before I start the clock. Do you have any questions?" the young woman asks.

Kurt shakes his head and smiles politely, as he rummages his satchel for an extra pen. He lowers it carefully to the floor, the TA smiles at him, and she slouches relaxed by the desk to read the latest issue of _American Scientist_.

He reads the five questions, and smirks. He's got this covered!

* * *

Less than two hours later, Kurt steps out of the classroom with a brand new A minus in his pocket. He'd been able to talk about the French Revolution for a long time, and had brought up a lot of the thoughts and connections Blaine and he had made with their analysis during the weekend. He just hopes Blaine remembers it too, and can use it fruitfully.

The only thing his teacher had mentioned worthy of some criticism was the lack of structure in his presentation. And Kurt can live well with that. It's his first oral examination, so he isn't used to that kind of medium. Also, he knows he'd gotten eager and just blabbered on at some points. If it had been a written exam, he'd make a disposition before writing it out, and hence showing more planned, logical and structured answers. He'll keep that in mind for the rest of the oral exams he'll be having this week.

Kurt definitely feels satisfied with the results. He's always loved history, and it's a nice self esteem boost to ace his first exam, it's a perfect start for this hard week. Things are looking up, when he could do so well in such a short amount of time after his transfer. He already knew classes were harder, and he expected the exams to be equally more difficult as well. But he pulled through! He's more or less skipping down the hallways back to the dormitories, as he types out a quick text with the results to his dad. It's still three more hours until he expects Blaine and the others to have completed their exam. Kurt decides to nap for an hour, before preparing for tomorrow's exam.

* * *

The nap rejuvenates Kurt, and his brain feels pleasantly calm and rested. He's ready for some hours with the books and a final effort before tomorrow's exam in math. Kurt scrolls through his playlists, until he finds one with soft background music. He can't concentrate in a completely silent room, and needs something there.

Kurt is absentmindedly humming to Enya's _Only Time_ while solving an algebra equation, when his bathroom door bursts open. An obviously rattled Blaine follows after, dragging his feet across the floor and throwing himself onto Kurt's bed, face down. He turns his head towards Kurt, who's still sitting by his desk.

"You, my dear, are simply amazing!" he gushes.

Kurt raises his eyebrows in confusion and disbelief.

"Your insight in French history… I had to write faster than I've ever done before to get it all down on paper, and still have time for the other questions."

Blaine pauses his rambling to take a deep breath, and then one more.

"My brain is all mushy, and I'm completely exhausted," Blaine sighs. "I didn't think I could ever know too much history," he exhales.

"I'm glad it went well. And I have to thank you too, I wouldn't have been able to say much about the collapse of the Soviet Union without your help," Kurt replies.

He takes a pause to finish the equation he was working on when Blaine arrived, before he continues.

"I was really anxious about today, but I feel more confident about the rest of the week now. Dalton isn't that intimidating any more."

Kurt looks over at Blaine when the boy doesn't answer. His eyes are closed.

"Blaine?" Kurt carefully calls.

No response.

He rolls his chair away from the desk, spins it around towards Blaine, watching him carefully.

"Blaine?" he tries again.

Still no response.

Kurt chuckles for himself as he gets up from the chair. He crouches down by his bed, watching Blaine. His eyes are closed, and his nose scrunched up quite adorably. Little puffs of breath escape his partly open lips, and he's firmly embracing the pillow his head is resting on. Kurt picks up a wool blanket he's stored in a plastic box under the bed, and drapes it over his sleeping friend. He reaches out a hand to stroke Blaine's hair, but stops himself in time. He gives him one more glance, sighs, and goes back to his math books. The boy must be drained.

Blaine doesn't move at all, so Kurt decides the boy needs his sleep, and doesn't try to wake him up until half an hour before dinner. He crouches down by the bed again.

"Blaine, you have to get up," he says and gently shakes the boy's shoulder.

No reaction.

"Blaine, come on, you have to get ready for dinner," he says louder, and isn't as gentle with his shaking either.

Blaine slowly turns around to lie on his side, and stretches his body. Fingers and arms reaching long above his head until they touch the headboard, and Kurt can't help but compare him to a sleepy kitten.

"Blaine," he laughs, "come back to the world of the awake."

The tired boy crumbles back together in fetal position, scrunches his entire face, before prying his eyes open. He blinks a couple of times, and smiles sheepishly at Kurt.

"Good sleep," Blaine states sleepily, and Kurt has no reason to doubt it with the content sigh that follows.

"That's good, Blaine," Kurt answers amused, as Blaine curls together even more, and yawns.

"Let me sleep some more?" he whispers, looking pleadingly at his friend.

Can a kitten have puppy eyes?

"Blaine, dinner is served in…" Kurt stops to check the time on his phone, "25 minutes, and we have Warblers after that. You need to get up now, I'm afraid."

"M'okey," Blaine hums, but his eyes still seem glazed and almost in dreamland.

They join their friends by their usual table ten minutes late, and have to wolf down their spicy chicken stew with rice to avoid risk Wes going all loco on them for being late for practice.

* * *

Practice is a sweet affair, leaving Kurt in a nice Christmas mood. Blaine had reminded him to come over at eight when they separated to their respective rooms afterwards. Blaine planned some quality time with his math books, while Kurt feels prepared enough for tomorrow. Instead, he's thinking about Christmas gifts and shopping, pondering on the perfect presents for his family and friends, and exploring eBay to see if anything can be found there. He still has a lot to do before Christmas, and doesn't know how much time he'll have for shopping, so online solutions may be a saving graze for him.

Time flies when you're having fun, or so they say, and it certainly does for Kurt while scrolling through endless amounts of possible gifts. He has to stop himself from shopping to Kurt from Kurt, but places some bids on Finn-suitable gifts before he heads over to Blaine's room – briefly halting in front of his big mirror to check out his hair first, of course.

"Hey Kurt, come in!" Blaine greets him as soon as he opens the bathroom door.

"I know I promised you to work on the Christmas atmosphere here, but there's this almost anti-Christmas movie I really want to see. I'm desperate for some cheap laughter," Blaine chuckles self-deprecatingly.

"Sure, I'm fine with whatever."

Blaine smiles almost relieved and pops a disc in the DVD-player. The boys get comfortable in his bed. Kurt laughs out loud when he sees the cover.

"_Bad Santa_, Blaine? Way to set the mood for the holiday," he teases, knocking his knee to Blaine's knee.

"Hey, I said I need to laugh," Blaine tries to defend himself. "Besides, would you object to Billy Bob Thornton?"

"He really isn't quite my cup of tea," Kurt shrugs, "although I guess I can see the appeal."

"There's a roguish quality to him," Blaine shrugs.

"Huh. I wouldn't peg you as someone with a bad boy kink. Maybe opposites do attract," Kurt says thoughtful, silently panicking. He will _never_ be able to live up to that kind of image and gain Blaine's attention, that's for sure.

"I don't think I really have a type. I've been attracted to different kind of guys. Besides, there's a difference in enjoying an image and wanting to spend the rest of my life with it," he chuckles.

Kurt nods, and thinks about the boys he's crushed on, trying to find similarities. First Finn, then briefly Sam, and now Blaine. Not exactly identical triplets.

"I guess I can relate. The only thing my history of crushes seem to have in common is that they've been kind to me."

"There you go, then. And kindness should be something worth sharing your life with," Blaine grins.

Kurt simply nods, and leans further back in the pillows. It's nice – although somewhat alien – to be able to talk about boys like this. Sure he has gossiped about hot celebrities with Mercedes, but it's nice to have deeper conversations with someone who relates. He's dropped the odd remark now and then while watching TV with Finn, but Finn has just looked uncomfortable, or confused when Kurt points out how Finn also ogles and comments on the babes he fancy.

The movie begins, and they see the Santa doing a woman in a dressing room, claiming she won't shit right for a week. Kurt flinches. He's never been comfortable with watching sex scenes, especially in company with other people. He'd somehow managed to forget about these scenes when he accepted the movie suggestion. This scene particularly disturbs him. Is that how it will be? Is that what he can expect? He'll never be ready for something like that. A shiver runs through him, and he notices Blaine is looking at him with a worried expression.

"Is anything wrong?"

"No, no, I'm just a bit cold," Kurt shrugs.

Blaine picks up a blanket from the end of his bed, and covers both of them with it.

"Thank you," Kurt smiles sincerely.

Sue the Bartender asks Willie the Santa to prove he's a fucking Santa, and Blaine laughs at the car scene. Kurt chuckles awkwardly, and lets his thoughts wander off. The Warblers' Secret Santa comes to mind, making Kurt realize he is a Bad Santa himself. It's been days since he did anything remotely special for Nick, and it's about time to make amends. He thinks for a while, and the perfect plan hits him. He just needs a computer and a printer for this, and he can find both in the library tomorrow after his exam. Kurt smiles to himself, glad to be able to do something nice for his friends.

He pays attention to the movie again, laughing at the right places, and it is kind of entertaining, although – as Blaine predicted – the humour is all kinds of cheap. He's even able to laugh at the scene where the grandma is watching TV, while Santa and Sue are going at it in the hot tub in the background. It makes him a bit embarrassed, but not on his own behalf.

"Did I ever tell you about how Finn thought he knocked up Quinn through the Jacuzzi?" he chuckles.

Blaine raises an eyebrow inquiring, and Kurt tells the story, making the both of them crack up.

"And there we have yet another reason why it's great to be gay!" Blaine grins. "No pregnancy scares."

* * *

Tuesday's exam in math is also a test in patience for the poor teacher, in Kurt's opinion. He solves several equations on the blackboard, but the teacher offered to do all the chalk work, while Kurt talks him through how he would solve them. Oral math isn't the easiest thing in the world, but they get through the sheet eventually. Math has never been Kurt's strongest side, and he gets a bit nervous. He stresses and feels he has to talk all the time to show what he'd do, and doesn't take his time to think things through. He makes mistakes, it stresses him even more out, and he stumbles and falls. Maybe he should be pleased with the C+ he got after that painful exam, but it feels like failure. Luckily, it isn't his finale grade in math, and he has a chance to make amends next year. It doesn't make it easier to swallow, though.

As yesterday, he got one hour for preparation, and the teacher and he spent more than three hours working through all the tasks. The others will be done in less than an hour, so he has to hurry to get Nick's surprise done.

Kurt plops down by a computer in the library, and checks out the cinema program for Westerville. He had overheard Nick and Jeff talking about a movie they wanted to watch during dinner yesterday, so he buys two tickets for today's show. A confirmation is emailed to him, and he removes any traces of his meddling and decorates it with a Santa-greeting, prints the receipt, and runs to Nick's room to stick the paper on his door.

He still feels stressed and restless after the crappy exam, there's excess energy in his body that needs an outlet, and his mind needs to pause. Kurt knows exactly what he needs.

* * *

Blaine stumbles up the stairs to the dorms, as usual he's feeling exhausted after an exam. He gives it his all both mentally and intellectually, and it drains his body in every single way. He plans to sleep for a couple of hours before dinner and Warblers' rehearsal, but a familiar voice singing in the common's room pulls his attention from his alluring room, and he changes his route.

"Hey Kurt, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the boy answers, almost aggressively.

Blaine takes in the sight of the messy kitchen. There are bowls, utilities, measure equipment, flour, sugar, eggs, and a lot of unfamiliar ingredients scattered all over the kitchen counter. It's a stark contrast to the otherwise pristine Kurt.

"Do you need some help?" he offers hesitantly, because he isn't really recognizing this Kurt.

"This stupid bowl won't stand still," Kurt scowls, and tries again to whisk the eggs and sugar together with one hand, and unsuccessfully tries using the casted hand to hold the bowl.

"What if I take the whisk and bowl, and you measure up the rest of the ingredients?" Blaine suggests.

Kurt stays still for a moment, obviously thinking the suggestion over.

"I always bake when I'm stressed or upset," he says apologetically, and Blaine takes that as his queue to not ask about today's exam. "The mixing helps me get out some of the pent up energy."

"What are you making?"

"Cookies of some sort," Kurt sighs and scratches his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a white flour trail.

Blaine rummages through the cupboard, and pulls out a bag of almonds and some chocolate bars.

"Here, empty this in a plastic bag, and knock yourself out with this one," he says, handing him a wooden ladle. "We're making chocolate almondy cookies."

Kurt smiles gratefully.

"Thank you!" he beams. "I'll finish measuring up the ingredients, and then I'll rip this apart."

Said and done, and Blaine mixes the ingredients together vigorously. Kurt is using the ladle to break the chocolate and almonds in small pieces, before adding that to the mix as well.

Soon after, Kurt places spoonfuls of the batter on the tray, shoving it into the preheated oven.

"They'll be done in eight minutes," Kurt explains, and starts preparing the next tray.

"You're making an awful lot of cookies," Blaine says nonchalantly, hoping to coax the stressed boy to relax a little.

"It's therapeutic."

"You must have made enough batter for fifty-sixty cookies. Someone's skipping dinner today," he chuckles.

Kurt looks wide eyed at him.

"You think I'm going to _eat_ these?"

"Well, you are making them…" Blaine's confused.

"It helps me to reveal some stress and get my mind on something else, but _eating_ all these calories will only increase my stress."

"Huh. You're weird."

"And yet you keep hanging out with me," Kurt shakes his head in disbelief. "Besides, this benefits you. I seem to remember I owe you sweatpants-cookies," he giggles.

"Yuck, way to make them seem uneatable."

"I can give them to Nick instead, if you'd prefer that," Kurt grins wickedly.

"Speaking of which, aren't you afraid he'll notice you baking and blow your Secret Santa-cover?"

Kurt just keeps grinning.

"A little birdy told me he's on his way to the movies with Jeff after getting a surprising hold on some tickets."

"Such a nice bird," Blaine coos as the timer goes off, and Kurt scurries to take the cookies out of the oven.

The boys end the evening in Kurt's room with lukewarm cookies, cold milk and easy conversation.

* * *

The next morning, Nick and Jeff spend the entire breakfast gushing about their date the day before. Nick had been both surprised and thrilled to find the movie tickets on his door, and had gotten out of his uniform as quickly as possible, seeking out his boyfriend, and then they had left.

"You skipped Warblers, though", Wes scolds.

"And it was so worth it," Jeff sighs.

Nick continues to tell about the movie, how good it was, better than expected, and how they'd ended up making a complete evening out of it. They had found a nice place to have dinner together, Jeff's treat because Nick provided the date with tickets and candy. Afterwards they had strolled in the Christmas decorated streets, done some shopping, and just relaxed together.

"It was amazing to get out of Dalton for an evening," Nick sighs.

The boys are glowing, radiating happiness, and seem so content and relaxed. Kurt can't help but smile. He adores them, and he's glad he could help them initiate a date like that.

Too soon, however, the six boys have to get up and find their classroom. Today they have two exams, so it'll be a heavy day. First three and a half hour with chemistry, an hour for lunch, and then a three and a half hour long geography exam. Kurt, of course, will as usual get his own arrangements to be able to finish his exams without doing any writing. The boys agree to meet by their usual table for lunch, no matter how their exams go.

* * *

Blaine scans the room, although he can't reason why Kurt should be somewhere else.

"Have anyone of you seen Kurt?" he asks the other boys by their table.

"Not since he left the classroom to do his exam," Wes chimes, and the other nod in agreement.

"Huh, I would have though he was done by now."

Blaine shoots off a quick text to his neighbour.

"So, how did your exam go?" David asks, and they start comparing answers.

15 minutes later, and Blaine still hasn't heard anything from Kurt. He swallows down his food, and calls the boy instead.

"Are you calling Kurt?" Nick asks.

Blaine nods, with his phone still tucked to his ear.

"It's strange he isn't here, he needs to eat before the next exam," Nick worries.

"Maybe we should check his room?" Jeff suggests.

Blaine tucks his phone in his pocket and gets up from the chair.

"I'm done eating, I'll go," he offers.

Any other day his friends might have teased his eager suggestion, but today they just worry about Kurt's absence. It's quite out of character for Kurt to act like this literally between two exams.

Blaine hurries out of the main building, and runs across the snow covered field to the dormitory building. He tries to phone Kurt once more, without success.

He stops in front of Kurt's door, shakes off some of the snow on his shoes, and knocks.

"One moment!" Kurt shouts, and Blaine sighs relieved. At least the boy is located.

The door is opened, and Blaine quickly steps in. He immediately sees Kurt. His hair is a wet mess, and he's only wearing Dalton slacks and a white collared t-shirt.

"Why didn't you join us for lunch?"

"Hydrogen sulphide accident all over my clothes," Kurt explains, scrunching his nose in distaste.

Blaine can relate. That stuff smells foul.

"You should get those clothes washed immediately, before the stink settles."

"I don't have time, Blaine, our next exam is in 30 minutes, remember?"

"Let's bring your hamper to the laundry room and start the machine. If someone – and I don't know who that would be, as we all are doing our exams now – needs the machine, they'll just leave your clean clothes in your hamper. Come on," Blaine encourages, taking one step back to the door.

"I need to get dressed, I can't show up for my exam like this."

Blaine is pretty sure the geography teacher would understand if Kurt explained, but he wants to spare Kurt for the extra trouble.

"Find a new tie, and I'll be back in two minutes."

He hurries through the bathroom to his own room, quickly rummages through his closet and drawer, and returns to Kurt.

"Hands in the air," he orders, but is still surprised to see Kurt obey unquestioningly.

"I know you're more of a blazer man, but this is the quickest solution," Blaine explains as the pulls the navy Dalton sweater over Kurt's head and arms. It tugs a little by the cast, but he manages to yank it over. He prods Kurt's tie out of his grasp, and quickly tucks it under the t-shirt collar. Nobody will be able to see he isn't wearing a Dalton shirt under.

"Voila, you're ready," Blaine grins.

Kurt gives himself a critical glare in front of the mirror.

"My hair!" he groans.

"…will not affect your brain's ability to work on the next exam. Now eat this, and I'll carry your laundry for you."

Blaine hands over an energy bar and a water bottle, and leads the way to the laundry room.

They manage to get to their assigned exam room with five minutes to spare, Kurt's hair worse for wear after running across Dalton.

* * *

One exam, one dinner, and one Warblers' rehearsal later, Kurt is back in his room. He's sprawled drowsily out on his bed, trying to muster enough energy to pick up his clothes from the laundry room, as he forgot them when he came back to the building.

Kurt startles by the thunderous knocking on his door, and before he can get up, Nick and Jeff burst into his room.

"This is not a drill; it is an emergency. You have three minutes to pack your stuff; move, move, move!" Nick shouts, while Jeff throws himself to the floor, and slides towards the bed to pull out the suitcase Kurt has stocked under it.

"Say what?" Kurt frowns, brain still sleepy.

"You have three minutes to pack and evacuate before the planet Dalton evaporates – hurry!" Nick explains while he jumps up and down. Jeff has opened his suitcase, laid it on his bed, and is dragging Kurt towards it.

"Tick tock, clock is ticking!" he says and shows him the timer from the kitchen, and yes, it now shows 2 minutes and 27 seconds.

"But what do I need to pack for?" Kurt asks, still confused.

"You are packing for the rest of your life!" Nick whispers earnestly.

Kurt hesitates for a second, before he decides to just follow their lead and join the madness. Knowing these guys, it'll probably be worth it. He quickly gathers his most important things – he whips out his scarves and his McQueen coat from his wardrobe, his laptop, the shabby teddy he loves more than anything else on this earth and was a gift from his mother when he was born, some song books, a picture of his parents and himself as baby, and a picture of his new family.

"Oh my god," Kurt exclaims, "I want to pack Blaine!" he states while Jeff almost breaks his arm again while trying to coax his coat on.

The three boys burst into the bathroom to get to Blaine as quick as possible, and he's greeted with the same "this is not a drill"-warning from Nick and Jeff.

"Is the planet imploding again?" he asks with his best hysterical voice, and the three other boys nod their heads eagerly.

Blaine dives into his wardrobe, and emerges with a backpack.

"I've got all my ICE-gear in here," he flails, and the four boys exit his room.

They run to the end of the hallway to get Wes and David. Apparently, they'd been given a pre warning, and are ready with their suitcases.

"I wish I knew where my gavel is," Wes sulks, but according to Nick they don't have time for this, and hurries out of the building. They don't stop running until they are at the parking lot.

"Oh! My! God!" Kurt exclaims. "I can't believe we managed to escape alive!"

He visibly deflates.

"Did anyone bring car keys?" he asks sheepishly.

Luckily, the other boys are more prepared for this drama, so both Wes and David present their keys. The six boys split up in the two cars, bringing their luggage as well, after deciding they'll go to Cold Stone Creamery.

"Ice cream, you scream, we all scream!" Wes and David shouts at each other through their open car windows, as they leave the parking lot.

* * *

**French translation:**

Je suis désolé j'ai besoin de vos funérailles – _I'm sorry I have to go to your funeral_.

Trés bien… – _you are right…_

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Katy Perry – _Teenage Dream_


	24. Cast Be Gone

**AN: I'm blown away with all the feedback I'm getting, you guys are amazing! I hope this chapter will be to your liking as well, I know a lot of you have been waiting for this one.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

"You're fifteen minutes away from a difficult exam, you should eat more than just a salad for breakfast," Nick chides, poking at Kurt's shoulder with his fork.

"Uhuh," Kurt protests, and swats away Nick's utensil. "I had too much ice cream yesterday, I have to compensate today."

"But how can you feel full after just eating some grass?" Jeff asks, and shoves a generous amount of pancakes into his mouth.

Kurt snorts, eyes focused on his salad bowl, trying to convince some ruccola and roasted pine nuts to stay long enough on his fork for him to eat it.

"Maybe I'm a bull?"

The sound of a crash makes Kurt look up from his food. He has to lean over the table to see Wes sprawled on the floor between his own and David's chair.

"I did not see that coming!" the Council member laughs madly.

"What?" Kurt's amused; he can't feel insulted even though Wes laughed so hard he fell off his chair.

"If you're a bull, you have to be Ferdinand," Wes giggles and climbs back on his chair.

"Yeah, I can't really picture Kurt and steak or Kurt and matador in the same sentence," David adds.

"Ferdinand ends up as quite the buff and handsome animal," Blaine shoots down Wes' suggestion.

Kurt simply shakes his head in amusement and rolls his eyes.

"_Back and forth the struggle consumes us all. Trying to keep a level head. __In the most unsettling of times. __Today I become the bull_," he sings raspy, ignoring the other boys' bickering.

The fabulous five get silent, and listen to Kurt's song. He blushes when he ends the chorus, noticing how not just his friends, but a lot of other Dalton students are watching him.

"Nah, still not buying it," Nick chimes in, interrupting the awkward silence. "You have to be some other kind of animal," he adds, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as if he's imagining Kurt in different animal shapes.

"He's without doubt something cute and graceful," Jeff decides. "I know, he's Bambi's older brother!" he exclaims enthusiastically.

"No!" Kurt quickly interjects. "You can never mention Bambi in my presence ever again," he says sternly.

"Way to make us curious, Hummel," Wes laughs.

"That's a story for when I'm really drunk," he replies carefully.

"But you don't drink," Blaine objects.

"Exactly!" he smirks.

* * *

The exam is followed by Warblers rehearsal – the last one before their ball. Everybody is tired and lacks motivation, so the Council lets them go early. Hopefully, their performance will provide the right Christmas spirit anyway, even though their choreography isn't the most creative, and their vocals could be challenged more. But, they are in a hectic time of year, and have to give their school work priority.

In the evening, Blaine enters Kurt's room with a big box of Christmas decoration.

"Where did you find that?" Kurt asks enthusiastically.

"These are leftovers from some Christmas party the Warblers hosted a couple of years ago. I found it in the storage room, and the Council said I could have it. Do you want to make the common's room Christmasy?" Blaine is beaming eagerly, rolling on the balls of his feet, smiling bashfully at his friend.

"Does Kurt Hummel enjoy coffee and scarves?" he smirks.

They head out to the area shared by the juniors and seniors.

"Would it be considered a crime listening to Christmas music, when we are part of a choir who should be able to produce some sound on our own?" Kurt asks.

"No, I think that's quite a legitimate option," Blaine states solemnly. "I assume you have a playlist on your mind, asking that question?"

"Of course I do!" he squeals excited, and skips back to his room to retrieve his iPod and speakers.

When he comes back, Blaine has started making hot chocolate in a ridiculously large sauce pan.

"Just wait, within minutes this room will be crowded with thirsty Dalton-guys," he offers as explanation seeing Kurt's confused look.

"Is it silly to make popcorn garlands? I've always wanted to try that, it seems so… so old fashioned and romantic," Kurt sighs, twisting his laced fingers.

Blaine doesn't answer, but opens a drawer under the kitchen counter. He rummages the content, before throwing a box in Kurt's direction.

"Knock yourself out," Blaine offers.

Kurt sets the timer on the microwave, and skips back to his room yet again to gather needles and twine from his sewing kit.

He returns to the sighs of Blaine dancing and humming to _Jingle Bells_, while stirring a whisk in the hot chocolate.

"It smells delicious. How do you make it?" Kurt asks curiously. He's always interested in good recipes.

"It's an ancient Anderson legacy. If I tell you, I'll have to kill you. Or make you an Anderson," Blaine says seriously.

"That seems like a terrible destiny," Kurt shivers, shaking his head in disbelief. "I honestly don't know if it's worth it."

"Here, have a taste, to see if it's worth the sacrifice," Blaine offers, and dips a deep spoon in the hot liquid, reaching it out for Kurt, holding his hand under in case he spills.

Kurt opens his mouth obediently, swallows and moans.

"Mmm, yes," he purrs. "This _is_ delicious. It might be worth selling my bachelor pad for."

Kurt wants to kick himself for talking so inappropriately and laying heavily on the innuendos, but they sort of came naturally without him thinking. Blaine's face is decorated with a Christmas-red blush, and Kurt turns away to keep his hands busy and mouth shut. He's literally saved by the bell, when the microwave oven plings to alert the popcorn is done. He pours it into a bowl, and head over to the couch in front of the dead fire place, getting comfortable and ready to make the garlands.

Blaine crouches down by the big fire place, lining up fire wood and some old newspapers to get the heat started, while waiting for the hot chocolate to be done simmering.

"Sometimes Dalton reminds me more of a fairytale than a high school," Blaine chuckles as he gets up from the steadfastly growing fire. "It's like this fire place is begging for some stockings, and nobody would be surprised if we find them brimming when we come back after the holiday."

"I ask myself daily if this is real. I'm actually getting used to things I didn't think was in my future yet."

"What do you mean?"

Kurt bites his tongue. He's thinking about the locker slams, the slushies, the slurs, the dumpster tossings, the fear, the hate, the constantly being on edge – the bullying, and how he thought he had to live with it until he got out of Ohio. But he doesn't want to talk about that tonight, so he just smirks.

"Oh, you know, McKinley wasn't exactly filled with well dressed students. Say what you want about our uniform, but at least it's nice to be surrounded by properly clothed gentlemen."

"I _do_ know," Blaine laughs. "In my old high school, you couldn't walk down the hallway without being exposed to boys in saggy jeans, either showing half of their underwear or their cracks. The girls weren't much better, with their way too low slung jeans _and_ pronounced cleavages," Blaine fake shudders. "There's just so much butt crack one can take in one day."

Kurt has to force out his laughter, because this is the first time Blaine's mentioned his old high school since Kurt came to spy. Sure, Blaine's talked about how it was to transfer, how much better Dalton is, how he dealt with some of the transitions. But he hasn't directly said anything about how his old school was. Kurt wonders if this is an opening to talk about the issue Nick mentioned, and the Christmas Ball.

"Blaine… Can I ask you something?"

"Always," Blaine smiles calmly, and turns in the couch to face Kurt.

"Something smells delicious!" boys are shouting, and the sound of rapidly approaching feet makes Kurt reconsider his question.

"When is that magical brew of yours done, anyway?" Kurt smirks.

Blaine leans over and ruffles Kurt's hair with both hands, and is about to jump over the back of the couch to escape, but Kurt's Cheerio reflexes are quicker. He's grabbed the boy by his wrists, holding him down over his own body.

"Do that again," he hisses, "and I will personally execute the amputation. With a blunt pocket knife." He tightens his hold around the boy's wrists to emphasize.

An odd combination of fear and amusement swirls in Blaine's eyes.

"And to think you look so innocent and kind," he sighs.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, Anderson," Trent interjects, clearly having heard their conversation. "Books and librarians, we all know how kinky they can be," he says, and winks at Kurt.

The rest of the Warblers have arrived the common's room at this point. Their floor is more or less occupied with Warblers. There are 18 beds on the floor, and the Warblers sleep in 15 of those.

"No," Kurt says puzzled. "I wouldn't know anything about kinky librarians. Mrs. Graham does nothing to my mojo. But I guess we all know why you spend so much time in the library now."

Mrs. Graham is the main librarian at Dalton, and that's a position she's had the last four or five decades. She's way passed her retirement age, but her mind is still sharper than Kurt's sai swords, and she can answer faster than the electronic database finishes its search. She needs a walking stick and thick glasses, but otherwise she's perfectly healthy. Although her fashion sense is seriously sick, Kurt thinks.

Blaine laughs so hard he falls on top of Kurt again, and the Warblers join in, wiggling their eyebrows at Trent, patting his back, and somebody howls like a wolf. Nick high fives Kurt, as difficult as that is with their lead singer shaking on top of him.

"So, what are you guys up to?" Wes asks, and sits down on the couch where Blaine is still lying on top of Kurt.

"We're decorating for Christmas," Kurt beams, and fails at kicking Wes who's dived into the popcorn bowl.

Blaine finally gets up from Kurt, and heads back to the kitchen counter.

"Hot chocolate is ready", he offers the room after pouring two mugs for him and Kurt, not wanting to risk the other boys finishing it off without the two of them getting a taste.

Kurt accepts the mug Blaine offers, and both boys grab a needle to make popcorn garlands. They are chatting easily about all and nothing. The other boys dive into the big box of Christmas decoration, spreading its content around the room in a matter and pattern Kurt would not approve of at all. If it wasn't for the fact that he kind of loves these boys like his own family now, and it's kind of nice for once to be a part of ruckus boys and their antics. They don't have to decorate according to colour palettes and topics.

Jeff and Cameron had run off to the main building, "borrowing" a big yucca palm from the lobby. It's gotten an honorary position in their common's room, and the boys are decorating it with fake fir branches, gold spray, and bright red garlands. To literally top their Christmas tree, they make a ribbon of the Dalton tie Blaine was still wearing.

"Because the Warblers are like rock stars at Dalton, and Blaine is our supernova," Nick explains, and it is kind of logical.

The next time Kurt looks over at the fire place, someone's pinned nine pairs of the navy blue Dalton socks to a red table cloth tied to the intricate iron decorations. It's quite endearing, and he can't help but smile. The room looks as if the box with red candle lights and Santa's in every size and variation thinkable has exploded.

The wild, but eager spread of Christmas in the room is perfect on its own.

When the batteries on Kurt's iPod die, David's deep baritone suggest a dark beat, and one by one the other boys add their voices. Nobody takes charge, so Kurt allows his clear, bright voice to take on the solo.

"_Come, they told me…"_

"_Pa, rum, pum, pum, pum!"_ the Warblers answer him.

"…_Our newborn King to see."_

"_Pa, rum, pum, pum, pum!"_

"Can somebody tell me why this isn't on our setlist for the Ball?" Thad asks scandalized.

A murmur of agreement fills the room.

"All in favour of adding this for our upcoming performance?" Wes asks.

15 Warblers raise their hands in the air.

"It's decided," Wes concludes, knocking a wood carved Santa on the table to emphasize his point. "Kurt, congratulations with your solo."

Kurt freezes with his mug of hot chocolate tipped against his bottom lip. Blaine gently pries it out of Kurt's hands to prevent an accident and the destruction of Kurt's sweater. The awareness of Blaine's hands so close to his face is what wakes Kurt up from his spell.

"I didn't even audition for it!" he exclaims.

"I think this was as good an audition as anything else," David shrugs.

"But nobody else got the chance to audition!"

"Does anybody else want Kurt's solo?" Wes asks the room.

The deafening silence does nothing to convince Kurt.

"But…"

"Kurt, are you fighting against your solo?" Blaine asks confused.

"No!" Kurt shakes his head with disbelief, wide eyed. "It's just that, I've always had to fight _for_ my solos. I've never been given it just like that," he pleads with Blaine to understand where he's coming from.

"Oh Kurt," Blaine sighs, and wraps an arm around the other boy's shoulders. "You don't have to fight for things you've just proved you earn."

Kurt relaxes, and leans into Blaine's embrace.

"It's about time to watch _The Grinch_," Nicks suggests.

"Yes!" Jeff shouts. "_The Grinch_, this year we won't be fooled!"

Nick and Jeff curls up in the couch with Blaine and Kurt, while Trent prepares the DVD.

"Such a gay couch," Wes concludes with a tutting sound, and sits down on David's lap in one of the recliners.

* * *

Kurt tosses off his blazer and tie, and slumps down on his bed, feeling content with himself. Finishing this hell week with an A in French tastes sweet. He assumes a lot of people would expect him to do that well, but he never takes anything for granted – not even in French. But, he can't deny it feels good to meet the expectations, and it'll be nice to go to the Ball tomorrow in a good mood, taking the opportunity to celebrate.

He texts Blaine, urging him to come by his room as soon as he's done with his Latin. They have to talk about whatever Nick didn't tell him about Blaine and the Ball. He promised Nick not to mention it during their exams, although he almost asked yesterday. It must be a heavy topic, if Nick thinks it would interfere with Blaine's concentration and performing abilities for his school work. They still have one more exam, though. Next Friday they're supposed to hand in a literature essay; they got the assignments to choose from handed out today. Kurt also has a written French exam to take care of. But if Blaine is having issues with the Ball, this is his last chance to bring it up.

While he waits for Blaine to finish his exam, Kurt packs a weekend bag. He won't need much, spending less than 24 hours in Lima, but some necessities are obligatory. Kurt's dad is picking him up in the afternoon; Burt didn't think he'd be able to get away from the garage too early. Hopefully he'll give them enough time to talk this through.

After meticulously changing out of uniform into one of his signature outfits, he takes a well deserved rest. Getting into skin tight jeans with basically only one hand is quite the challenge. But soon, and yet not soon enough, the cast will be removed and he can function properly again. Kurt can't wait!

To kill off some more time while waiting for Blaine, Kurt takes his ball outfit out of his wardrobe. At the moment, he isn't quite sure if he's going tomorrow. He doesn't want to make Blaine do something he isn't comfortable with. Blaine's well being is more important than a silly ball. But just in case, he goes over his outfit. He knew it was in perfect condition when he brought it to Dalton, but still he checks to see if the buttons are on, if the seams are good enough, and if there's something lacking. But who is he kidding? He designed and made this outfit himself. It's perfect for him.

He quickly checks his second outfit as well, his backup if he doesn't find the guts to wear his own design. It is store bought, classic, discreet, but still with a touch of Kurt to it. He does know how to accessorize, after all. The only things missing, for both outfits, are ironing the white shirt, but he'll do that tomorrow.

Finally, Kurt sits down with two pair of shoes and shoe polish, restlessly making them shine and waiting for the clock to tick.

* * *

Kurt had gotten a text from Blaine explaining he'd come by as soon as possible, and considering the short amount of time it took before Blaine knocked on his door, he must have texted while he walked back to the dorms. Kurt had let Blaine gush and vent about his exam, and when the boy had asked about his French exam, he'd just laughed and said he had of course aced it. He'd gotten a text from his dad just before Blaine came, telling him he was on his way, so they have about one and a half hour to talk. Not knowing what they were going to talk about, Kurt doesn't know if that is little or ample time, so he doesn't elaborate on his own exam, but patiently waits for Blaine to land from the inevitable adrenaline rush.

"Phuh, I'm sorry about all of that, I just…" Blaine smiles goofily, looking embarrassed after talking eagerly about Latin grammars and how he thought he'd never felt better after any exam, maybe with exception of the European history exam they had on Monday.

"No need to apologize, I am very familiar with the post exam high," Kurt smiles reassuringly.

"It's almost as good as the one after a great performance on stage," Blaine beams.

Kurt takes that as his cue to approach the big question, but Blaine beats him to it.

"So, not that I complain about spending time with you, but why did you ask me to come over? I thought you were going home for Friday night dinner?"

"I am, dad is on his way, but I wanted to talk with you about something first," Kurt explains, while struggling to find the right approach. He's been thinking about it for several hours, but still doesn't know how to address the topic.

They're sitting cross legged across of each other in Kurt's bed. Blaine tries to look Kurt in his eyes, so Kurt studies his hands in his own lap. He needs to get this out right.

"Hey, I can see something's worrying you," Blaine says softly, and rests a hand on Kurt's knee. "We've always been honest with each other. You can tell me whatever."

Blaine's warm hand grounds Kurt, and he finally raises his head to face his friend.

"You're a good friend, Blaine," Kurt starts, trying to smile reassuringly at said friend. "But there are still a lot of things we don't know about each other…"

"We met only two months ago, of course we don't know everything about each other yet," Blaine smiles comfortingly. "But somehow I don't think that's what worries you?"

It really isn't a question, and despite all the things they don't know about each other, Blaine reads Kurt disturbingly well.

"It's been brought to my attention there are things we should talk about before tomorrow. Before the Ball," Kurt explains carefully, watching Blaine intently to see how he reacts.

"Who have you been talking with?" Blaine asks, and his voice betrays no emotions.

It scares Kurt, it would be easier to deal with it if Blaine was hurt or scared or disappointed or sad.

"Nick mentioned something, but I've picked up on some things myself that makes me wonder if you're OK," Kurt says in the same careful, calm voice.

He can see Blaine trying to control his face, not showing off any emotions, but the hand running through his hair betrays him.

"How much do you know?" Blaine sighs.

It makes Kurt hopefully. Maybe Blaine will open up to him without a fight.

"Nick didn't manage to hide his surprise about our duet tomorrow. I thought he didn't think I was good enough, so we talked, and he said you haven't been to any of the Dalton Balls before," Kurt explains, trying to keep Nick out of this as much as possible to not rat him out and keep Blaine's potential anger directed at him, not Nick. Kurt is the one doing the snooping, not Nick.

"I'm just surprised and confused, thinking there must be a reason," Kurt adds when Blaine doesn't say anything.

"And that's all Nick said?"

"He said it wasn't his story to tell, and that I shouldn't talk to you about it in the middle of the exams."

Blaine's strange reaction convinces Kurt this is something major.

"Nick is a good friend," Blaine smiles sadly. "Wes and Nick know most of the story. David and Jeff know some, but… Wes is a good listener, and it was therapeutic to talk with Nick about it, because he could easily relate. I haven't mentioned it to anyone after I transferred. I thought…" Blaine shakes his head, and the smile gets even sadder. "I just assumed they would have filled you in on it."

"Good friends keep each others secrets," Kurt hesitates. "And good friends make sure their friend gets help when it's needed. You can talk to me about anything, you know that?"

Blaine nods his head.

"And you also know that you don't _have_ to talk to me about it, right?"

Blaine nods again. He's silent for a long time. Kurt waits patiently, hoping his friend will open up. He doesn't know what to ask, so he can only rely on Blaine's will to share.

"Sophomore year… My old school had this Sadie Hawkins dance," Blaine whispers eventually. "I had _just_ come out. Feeling brave, I asked a gay friend of mine to go with me to the dance…"

Kurt takes Blaine's hands, trying to pour all his comfort and support through this touch.

"These guys, they…" Blaine's eyes moisten, and his voice is trembling. "They beat the living hell out of us," Blaine exhales in one rush.

The sentence has hardly reached Kurt's ear drums before he lounges forward, and yanks Blaine into a tight embrace. The boy is tense in his arms, and then a shiver runs through his entire body, and it's as if the boy dissolves in tears and sobs. Kurt uncurls his legs and leans backwards to his pillows, pulling the boy with him. He keeps holding him close, Blaine's head on his chest. They lie like that for a long time. If Blaine hasn't talked about this since he transferred, it's obviously bringing back a lot of pain and memories. Kurt lets him cry, rubs his back soothingly, and whispers nonsense in his hair. Blaine is clutching his arms around Kurt's waist.

Eventually, the shivers ebb out, the sobs silence, and Blaine struggles to get out of Kurt's hold.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he chuckles awkwardly, obviously embarrassed, sitting on his knees next to Kurt.

"Hey, none of that, OK?" Kurt says sternly, and gets up to sit next to Blaine.

He gently wipes off Blaine's tears with his thumb. It may be crossing a boundary, but he can't bear watching the sad, tear filled face of his friend. It's the first time he's ever seen the boy cry. He scoots up to sit against the headboard of his bed, and pats the space next to him. Blaine quietly obeys.

"I spent so much time in hospitals, with surgery, with physiotherapy, with a psychiatrist, and all kinds of doctors. I was so damaged, and it took almost a year to recover. I guess I'm not completely healed yet."

Kurt doesn't say anything, but takes Blaine's hand. He doesn't know what he can say in a situation like this. He understands why Blaine talked with Nick, though. Both having been through an attack, they speak the same language.

"After months and months in hospitals, I was finally released. I begged my parents to let me transfer here. One of the nurses had told me about Dalton, she thought I could use the zero tolerance no bullying-policy," Blaine chuckles self-deprecatingly.

He leans his head on Kurt's shoulder, nuzzling closer, and sighs heavily. Kurt drops the boy's hand in favour of embracing Blaine's shoulders, pulling him even closer.

"Last year when the hype about the Christmas Ball began, I panicked. I got flashbacks, nightmares. I couldn't go. So I made up an excuse about an important family dinner I couldn't get out of. That's one of the advantages about being here. A lot of the kids come from money, and know all about keeping up an appearance and playing the picture perfect family role," Blaine snorts. "Nobody ever questioned it. Except Wes."

Kurt hums to show he's still listening, and runs his hand up and down Blaine's arm.

"I was petrified when I transferred and avoided people, was reluctant to join any activities outside the classroom. But one evening Wes overheard me singing in the shower, and kept nagging on me until I auditioned for the Warblers."

Blaine smiles fondly at the memory.

"God, his persistence can be annoying. But I'm glad he didn't give up. I fell in love with singing and performing, I grew confident, and after a surprisingly short amount of time I found myself as the leader of most of their songs."

"And Wes didn't believe you'd let go of a chance to shine?"

Kurt can see how Blaine blushes.

"Gosh, I sound so cocky. But I _do_ love to sing, it makes me feel so _good_, and I never refused an opportunity to perform with them, no matter if it was swaying in the background or killing a solo. So Wes simply didn't understand how I couldn't get out of that single dinner, when I hadn't been in any other family dinners that semester. Damn Wes' eye for details and his good memory, of course he would have control over things like that," Blaine laughs sincerely.

"We all know how Wes can be when he really wants something," Kurt agrees, but secretly feels smug about not caving in on the gavel yet.

"He soon got a broader picture of the story – the dance and the attack. He told me to talk with Nick, and never mentioned the Christmas Ball ever again. I made up the same excuses for the Valentine's Dance and for Prom, blaming on some important family obligations. It was easy. Comfortable. And although Nick knows why I'm scared, he never pushed me. They accepted me, even my weaker sides."

Blaine's voice is thick, and Kurt think he gets how it must feel to be completely accepted and loved, despite everything, when you come from so much hate and fear.

"But this year you're choosing the road not taken, so to speak."

Blaine hums in confirmation.

"But what… May I ask what changed?"

Blaine sits up, and turns around to face Kurt.

"You," he smiles impishly. "You inspire me. You're fierce, strong, bold, relentless in the best ways, and determined. You didn't let Karofsky break you, and I should try to take some of that courage I thought I could offer you to my own consideration."

Kurt blushes, and ducks his head.

"I think you're overestimating me here. Running away isn't a bold thing to do."

"Fighting a useless war is stupid. Saving your own ass is wise." Blaine smirks. "It's an old truth," he nods eagerly, trying to convince a laughing Kurt.

"Is it a Chinese proverb, perhaps?"

"Oh no, it's an old jungle saying from the ghost that walks," Blaine smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Can we go back to being serious for a moment?" Kurt asks. There are still things that need to be addressed.

"Sure," Blaine nods sincerely, all jokes put aside.

"I remember we talked about getting as much as possible out of the entire high school experience. But I don't want you to do anything you really don't want to. If you want out of the duet or the Ball, at any time, just let me know. I understand completely, you hear me?"

Blaine nods reluctantly.

"But I promised to escort you to the Ball, and I know you're looking forward to the duet."

"That's true." Kurt pauses to take Blaine's hands. "But you are more important to me. How do you think I can have fun and enjoy myself, if you aren't? I need for you to be comfortable, so I can be comfortable," Kurt says, mustering all the sincerity he can into his voice.

"How did I get so lucky to find a friend like you?" Blaine's eyes seem moist again, and there's a raw emotional edge to his voice.

"Terrible spy; amazing friend," Kurt sighs as if it's obvious.

He leans back into his bed, plants one foot on the mattress, and rests the other leg over his knee. Blaine quickly lies down next to him.

"I'm serious, though, Blaine. Just say it, and we can go to _Granny's_ instead, or to the movies, or make our own party here. Promise me?"

Kurt locks eyes with Blaine, and doesn't blink until his friend has vocalized the promise.

"Good," he says, satisfied for now.

They lay in silence, letting the heavy conversation completely sink in, both feeling the need to let their brains relax for a moment. Kurt doesn't know what he expected to learn from Blaine today, but this was by far worse than he could ever imagine. He didn't even get many details from Blaine, and he silently wonders if there are more Blaine isn't telling him. He won't ask him, though. He's already shared so much and opened up more than Kurt had anticipated.

Kurt breaths deeply, and goes through everything Blaine told him once more. The other boy is silent and still next to him, and Kurt suspects he may be dozing. Not that he can blame him, sharing that story must be emotionally draining. Kurt feels exhausted himself, and he only had to listen to it – not relive it.

"Blaine…" Kurt hesitantly asks.

He doesn't want to disturb him more, but there's something that's not sitting right with him.

"Yeah?"

The boy rolls over to his side, facing Kurt, and looks expectantly at him.

"You've been at Dalton for more than a year?" he asks carefully.

"I transferred late September last year, almost a year after… the dance. Both we and Nick are mid semester transfers."

"But the attack happened your sophomore year," Kurt points out, and instantly regrets his choice of words when he sees how Blaine flinches. "I just… Shouldn't you be a senior now?"

"_It…_ happened early November, and I lost so much of that year, so I did my sophomore year a second time when I transferred," Blaine explains calmly, almost hiding all of the trembling in his voice.

"So you're actually a year older than me…"

Blaine hums an affirmative.

"You're the first to figure that out. Not even Nick or Wes know that."

Kurt's phone interrupts them, and Kurt has to struggle some to get it out of his tight jeans. It's a text from his father.

"I have to go," he says apologetically. "Dad has arrived at the parking lot."

He sighs; he doesn't want to leave Blaine like this, without knowing if he's truly okey. He feels as if he opened a can of worms, and is darting out, leaving the mess for someone else to clean up.

"Hey, stop overthinking things," Blaine gently chides. "I'm OK, you haven't taken my sleep away, and I expect to see you looking all smart, handsome and excited tomorrow, and I'll try to look as if I deserve being seen next to you."

Kurt blushes at the second hand compliment, but rests the back of his hand on his forehead, while he blinks rapidly, like the damsel in distress he recently claimed not to be.

"Gee, I don't know, mr. Anderson, if I can ever measure up to such a distinguished, mature, grand gentleman as yourself…"

"You didn't just call me old?" Blaine asks, eyes narrow.

"Maybe…" Kurt grins haughtily, and steps out of his bed.

He gathers the bag and satchel he'll bring to Lima. Blaine hurries after him, and picks up his coat, holding it out to help Kurt get it on.

"I don't know what your plans are for tomorrow and when you'll return, but be ready for me to pick you up at six, OK? I intend for both of us to have an amazing night tomorrow," he says, and straightens out the lapels for Kurt.

Kurt nods to show he listens.

"I'll follow you to the car," he offers and picks up Kurt's weekend bag.

They walk in comfortable silence to the parking lot, both feeling the heavy load of having talked about such serious topics. Kurt quickly sends off a text to Nick, explaining with few words he's talked with Blaine about the dance, and telling Nick to keep an eye on him while Kurt's home.

* * *

Burt gets out of the truck as soon as he spots his son approaching. He's not alone, but with all the snow falling and at that distance, Burt can't be sure who it is. Besides, they all look the same with their uniforms on. Burt goes to the rear end of the car and pops the trunk, expecting his son to have brought all kinds of stuff for going home, even though he won't stay for long. The two teens are almost by Burt's car before he recognizes Kurt's friend. It's the short kid who talks as if he's from the last century, and had started to hang out with his son when things got rough at McKinley.

"Dad!" his son shrieks, and has soon enveloped him in a tight hug.

"Careful there, kiddo, won't want to send the old ticker to hospital for a new check," he laughs good-naturedly, but holds equally tight around his son.

He hasn't seen him for almost two weeks, and the scare of the death treat is still a dark cloud looming over Burt's head. Even though he's in touch with his son through phone calls and texts almost every day, it's not the same as to see his son in flesh and blood, standing in front of him looking all happy, healthy, and very much alive.

Burt lets go of his son, and directs his attention to the third person there.

"Good evening, Mr. Hummel, how nice to see you again," the boy introduces, reaching out a hand for Burt, not for a second breaking their eye contact.

Burt is impressed; kid's got both manners and balls. He takes Blaine's hand, and shakes it without the deathly grip he'd used the couple of first times he met the boy.

"Evening, Blaine, good to see you too, and please, how many times must I repeat myself? It's Burt," he says sternly.

"Burt," Blaine echoes politely, and Burt knows he'll have to repeat it the next time they meet as well.

Blaine lifts Kurt's bag into Burt's car, and he's impressed his son is only bringing one bag.

Burt bids his farewells, and climbs into the truck again. He starts the engine, and the headlights illuminate something that surprises him. His son is hugging that Blaine kid, and it seems like much more than a quick goodbye.

Burt can't remember having seen them hug before at all, and Blaine has been on their door quite a few times to pick up or drop off Kurt. And as the old fashioned gentleman he is, he always uses the door bell to introduce himself and take Kurt to whatever they've been doing – movies or coffee or shopping or musicals or gods know what. He also returns his son in time for his curfew every single time, following his son to the door, wishing good night. And not one single time has Burt seen them hug like that. Kurt had been insistent they weren't dating when Burt had asked. Of course he doesn't know what goes on when they are unwatched, or when Kurt is driving on his own. But Burt trusts his son. And that hug he's currently watching, that's a new development for Burt, that's for sure.

He watches how Blaine has his hands laced around his son's waist, and Kurt is now resting his hands on the kid's shoulders, clearly telling him something. From the expression on Blaine's face, it seems serious.

Finally they tear apart, and Kurt heads for the car, waving one last time to Blaine. Good, at least they didn't kiss. Burt doesn't know if he's ready for that yet. Finn gives Carole and him enough teenage heartbreak drama. Although, if there's someone who deserves some happiness in life, that's his son. And he guesses Blaine isn't the worst his son could find. It's a decent guy, from the little Burt knows. He speaks in proper sentences, he uses words Burt doesn't know, he is polite, he is trustworthy, and he managed to get through to Kurt when his son didn't open up to anybody, including his own father. It hurts, but it still earns the kid some points in Burt's book.

"So…" Burt says, as soon as they're back on the highway, and he doesn't have to concentrate on the narrow city streets, traffic lights and potential traffic risks.

"Spill it, dad, I can see you're holding back."

"Blaine and you seem… closer."

"He's my best friend, dad," Kurt says with so much tenderness in his voice it makes Burt's heart ache.

There's no doubt his son cares a lot for this boy.

"I thought Mercedes was your best friend?"

"She is. But they are on different levels. Mercedes is fun to spend time with, knows what clothes I love, and can endure my shopping trips and spa weekends. But Blaine really gets me, we can talk about anything, and we have so much in common."

"Because you're both gay?"

"Well, yeah that too, but maybe we'd still share a lot of interests and discussion topics anyway, I don't know." Kurt shrugs.

"Everything OK with Blaine?" he asks, still thinking about how the boys hugged goodbye.

"He… He isn't the only one who needed to transfer from public school, dad."

Kurt doesn't say anything, but his sad eyes are all Burt needs to see, to know they've had an emotional talk. He sighs, thinking about the cruel world which just can't accept that people love, and are so afraid of what's different they try to beat it down.

Burt doesn't say anything for a while, but focuses on the snowy road ahead of him.

"So you're not a _thing_, then?" he asks after a while, needing to clarify.

"What? No, we're not dating," Kurt rolls his eyes.

Burt believes him, but he isn't convinced his son wouldn't like to change that fact.

They spend the rest of the car ride talking about Kurt's exams, the Hudson-Hummel's plans for Christmas, how the garage is doing, and how often Burt has deviated from his diet.

The updates and easy conversation continues for the rest of the evening around the dinner table, with the entire family present.

* * *

Kurt's floating on air when he leaves the hospital. One would think the cast weighted a couple of tons, considering how elated he feels now that it's finally gone.

His dad is just laughing at him, his joy must be obvious on his face.

"Do you want to drive back home, kid?"

Butterflies take off in Kurt's stomach.

"I've been longing to be behind the wheel for so long, but I'm actually going to say no. I don't think I can concentrate properly just yet," Kurt beams, knowing he's got a silly grin plastered on his face.

Burt keeps laughing, and slides in the driver's seat. Kurt's almost jumping in the passenger seat, wiggling his fingers and waving his newly released hand in every direction.

"Careful, you don't want to cause an accident," Burt warns with humour, as Kurt almost hits his head.

"Sorry," Kurt giggles, and watches his arm with amusement.

"And what's the first thing you want to do, now that you're free?"

Kurt doesn't hesitate.

"Take a long and thorough shower. Can you imagine how disgusting the skin is after four weeks in a cast?"

He scrunches his nose in distaste, and tries not to think too much about it. The thought makes him nauseous. The nurse had washed his arm with antiseptics after removing the cast, but honestly? That's just not enough. He needs his own skin saving treatment for this. Luckily, he packed all of his toiletries back at Dalton with him.

He snaps a picture of his right arm, and sends it to Blaine, with the simple caption _Freedom_. He wants to ask how Blaine is doing, but doesn't want to nanny him either. He aches to ask Nick how Blaine is doing, though, but he resists.

Blaine quickly responds.

_Congratulations! I'm really looking forward to tonight; we have to celebrate!_

Carole greets him with a warm hug when father and son come back home. She's seen enough patients troubled and hindered by their cast, and knows what a relief it is to get it off.

"Look, Carole, I can hug you without the risk of knocking you out!" Kurt grins.

Carole hugs her step son even tighter.

"I'm so glad for you, Kurt. And just in time for your ball as well. Why don't you take a long bath to soak your skin for the moisturizing regime I know you're longing for? I've already filled the tub for you," she suggests.

"You're the best!" he beams as he unwinds his arms from her.

"I'm so excited for you," she smiles, and can't hide the tear she's wiping away from the corner of her eye. She's hoping the night will be amazing; he deserves that.

* * *

Kurt's humming softly to his Christmas playlist. He brought his iPod's docking station to the bathroom. He expects to be in the bathroom for a while.

He raises both arms from the warm bubble bath, and examines them carefully. It's no secret he's not exactly the most buff guy there is, but even he can see some definition on his otherwise pale, lanky arms. He's still surprised to see the difference between his arms. His right arm has been immobile in a cast for four weeks, often in a sling to keep it more still.

The left arm is more muscular than his right. He didn't realize he had that amount if definition until it disappeared. He grins to himself. It's a nice discovery! He flexes his right arm, and pokes at it with his index finger. It gives as much resistance as overcooked fish sticks.

The doctor had warned him he couldn't expect to go back to normal immediately. The arm will need time to gain back its strength, and will be tired quicker than his left arm. He'll need to build it back to its usual state. Being right handed, some of it will come naturally through daily activities. But the doctor had recommended physical exercise to get in shape again. Kurt's never been one to hang out in gyms. He gets his muscles and fitness from dancing and yoga. Maybe he'll make an exception for this recovery. Is there even a gym at Dalton? What would be a suitable exercise? Boxing? As if he knows anything about that, or knows anyone who boxes. Maybe drumming will help? He could ask Finn to teach him over Christmas.

Kurt drains the tub, and prepares his shower. He'll use a nice body scrub to remove any dead skin and dirt. He scrunches his nose as he watches his right arm. He'll scrub that one twice. Next is a nice shower gel that'll leave his skin glowing. A good shampoo and his expensive conditioner will leave a nice scent in his hair, but more importantly it'll be more manageable for styling later on. He'll finish with his lotions. It'll take some time to finish, but he's glad to do it at home instead of hogging the bathroom from Blaine at Dalton. He'll only need to do the finish, the extra touch, style his hair and get dressed.

"Kurt?" Carole's gentle voice asks through the door, accompanied with a knock.

"One moment!" he replies, and hurries to wrap himself in his bathrobe over the boxer and undershirt. He then unlocks and opens the door, smiling at his step mother.

"Am I disturbing you?" She's smiling shyly, with her hands on her back.

Kurt's intrigued. Carole's never been a shy person. He steps away from the doorway, and gestures for her to come in.

"I'm just finishing my skin care regiment," he smiles, and sits down by his mother's vanity again.

"Before my first prom my mom gave me a gift. It's a special occasion, and she thought it was worth a celebration. Burt loves you to death, but he isn't always the best at expressing it. Maybe you think this is silly, but we wanted to give you something for this special night."

Carole lays her hands to rest in her lap, holding a square box wrapped in metallic blue paper and a silver ribbon.

"Oh Carole…" Kurt jumps up from his chair to hug her.

"It's nothing big, sweety, and you know how practical your father is in his gifts. My mother gave me ear rings, but I thought that wasn't quite your things," she giggles.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're more excited about this ball than I am," Kurt giggles back.

"Aren't you going to open it?" she asks eagerly, prodding the gift towards Kurt.

"Don't mind if I dooo!" he sing-songs, and accepts the box.

He carefully scratches the tape, opening the paper in both ends without tearing it. He stops midway.

"You really didn't have to do this, you know. It's just a ball, and Christmas is coming up, and you already spend so much money on Dalton, and…"

"Oh honey, it's not 'just' a ball. It's your first dance, and it's a big happening in your high school career. Let us spoil you a little. Go on, open up," she encourages.

Kurt smiles gratefully at her, and removes the rest of the paper. He gasps when he sees the box.

"Oh Carole, you remembered?"

"Of course I remember, I do pay attention to what you like and comment on when we read your magazines."

Kurt has to fight back tears. During Thanksgiving, they had been catching up on some of his magazines, who hadn't been forwarded to Dalton. In one of them, there had been a sample for a fragrance, and Kurt had been ecstatic about it. He knows it's a quite expensive one, and he'll save it for special occasions. But yeah, his first dance is a special occasion, isn't it?

He hugs Carole intensely.

"Thank you. Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome, honey. And remember it's from your father too," she smiles. "Do you have time to join us for lunch in an hour?"

Kurt checks the time on his phone. He should leave in two hours to make sure he has enough time to finish at Dalton.

"That'd be nice, Carole," he smiles. "I'll just finish up here, and I'll come down and help."

Carole pats his knee, and leaves him to start on the food.

* * *

Kurt spins in front of his big mirror, trying to get the 360 degrees overview. He's wearing his own design, the outfit Quinn and the other girls convinced him to use. He even got a text from Quinn earlier, encouraging him in that commanding tone of hers to wear it. He's touched she actually remembers which day his ball is. Maybe Finn had mentioned it.

His hear is coiffed and sprayed to perfection. He hopes he'll be dancing tonight, and has checked – no, his hair won't be ruined if he does. Everything is perfect, and oh my gosh had it been ever so easy to get by with both hands available. He only needs to decide which coat goes best with his outfit, and he realizes he doesn't even know where the Ball is and how warm clothes he needs.

Someone knocks cheerfully on his door, and Kurt almost skips across his room to open up.

"Good evening," Blaine beams from the hallway. "I believe my…"

Blaine doesn't complete the sentence, but cuts himself short, staring at Kurt.

"You… I…"

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Atreyu – _Becoming the Bull_

Misc. - _Little Drummer Song_


	25. Christmas Ball

**AN: Thank you so much for your lovely feedbacks to my last chapter, and I apologize for the cliffhanger - but honestly, you didn't have to hold your breath, did you? We all knew Kurt would make an impact, right?**

**I'm sorry about the late update of a new chapter, but there's been more lemons than lemonade in my RL, so I had to find the right mindset before I could write this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this, though. And I don't know why, but my chapters seem to get longer for each time I publish - I hope you don't mind, I really didn't want to cut this in two.**

**I'm pretty nervous about this chapter. The boys have been talking about the Ball for ages, and finally it's here. Will it live up to the hype? And are their duet good enough+  
**

**WARNING: I haven't watched anything from season 4, and I want to stay spoiler free, so please, please, please don't make any comments on what's going on, and let me enjoy the show when it is being sent on TV in my country. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Straight No Chaser - but you should check out their work.**

* * *

Blaine doesn't think he knows the necessary words in the English vocabulary to describe how the boy on the other side of the door looks. Kurt is…

"You…" he exhales.

"Too much?" Kurt asks, chewing his lower lip and radiating an uncertainty Blaine decides he never ever wants to see from the boy again.

"No," Blaine hurries to reply, eagerly shaking his head. "You look perfect," he gushes, and the beaming smile Kurt gives him is a great gift.

"Thank you," he whispers shyly.

Kurt steps back to let Blaine in.

"I would have thought you'd pop by through the bathroom," Kurt comments.

"Now what kind of gentleman would that make me?" Blaine asks mock insulted. "Speaking of which…"

Blaine reveals the hand he's been hiding behind his back.

"Gosh, I hope you don't think this is stupid, but you don't have to wear it if it clashes with your outfit…"

Blaine knows he rambles, and he has to fight the urge to run his hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his.

"I got us boutonnières," he finally sighs, and presents a small transparent box to Kurt.

"You did?" Kurt exclaims happily, and Blaine can easily feel the tension from his body dissolve to nothing.

"I did," he exhales.

"Well?" Kurt asks, resting his arms on his lower back, twirling with small movements, smiling coyly, and looking at Blaine through his eyelashes.

"Right. Yes. Very well."

Blaine swallows dryly, and struggles to open the plastic box.

"Just a moment," he chuckles embarrassed.

Kurt's smile turns smug, and he takes the box from Blaine's fumbling hands. With quick, nimble fingers he breaks the seal and opens the lid, and then returns it to Blaine. Kurt smiles coyly again, presenting himself for the boutonnière, and Blaine can't help but laugh at the boy's playfulness.

Blaine gently grips the lapel of Kurt's jacket, and carefully pins the flower, making sure to not prick Kurt in the process. Or his own fingers. The blue rose is decorated with silver glitter on the tips, and the stem is wrapped in thin silver wire looping into a decorative pattern behind the flower, resting against the lapel. Finally the flower sits, and he straightens out the collar and lapels of Kurt's jacket, before stepping back to admire the boy. He really does look stunning. There's no doubt Kurt is a fashionista, and he both knows and wears it expertly.

"You really look amazing…"

Blaine takes in the entire vision of Kurt Hummel. His hair is perfectly coiffed. The jacket has an edge of uniform to it, with pronounced shoulders and ending just by the waist, slightly narrowed. Silver buttons, clasps and details finishes the military impression. He's wearing a white tuxedo shirt and a black bowtie which Blaine teasingly tugs.

"A little tribute to one Blaine Anderson," Kurt shrugs, and Blaine smiles.

It's the second half of Kurt's outfit that renders Blaine speechless. He's wearing an honest to God kilt, with a fairly wide riveted belt, and mid thigh he's accessorized with a grand bejewelled pin. On his feet, he has black shoes with the laces wrapped up and tied around his clothed calves. Blaine doesn't let his mind wander further up than the knees, and what might be under that kilt.

"You're staring," Kurt whispers, making Blaine snap out of it and blinking several times.

"I'm so sorry, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just… You…"

"It's too much. I can change," Kurt rushes, and turns towards his wardrobe.

Blaine grabs him by the wrist, and pulls him closer.

"Don't assume the worst just because I can't find the right words," he gently chides. "You do look amazing, and I'm really looking forward going to the Ball with you."

Kurt blushes adorably, but doesn't look away from Blaine.

"OK, then. Do you want some assistance with your boutonnière?"

"Yes please," Blaine smiles, giving Kurt the box. "You seemed to have the needed magic touch."

Kurt gently steers him to the mirror, and stays behind him while securing the flower to Blaine's lapel.

"Do you… D-do you know the meaning of it? The bl-blue rose?" Blaine stutters, feeling self conscious, and hoping he won't have to explain.

"I do," Kurt smiles, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Good. Are you ready to go?"

"Do I need a coat?"

Blaine shakes his head.

"I wouldn't think so; I'm letting mine stay here."

"I don't even know where we're going," Kurt giggles.

"To the Ball, Silly!" Blaine giggles too, and Kurt rests his chin on Blaine's shoulder, next to his hands.

"You're such a dork…" he smiles fondly at him.

Blaine smiles back to their kind of embraced reflection, studying them. He hopes he looks decent, even next to someone as fashion forward and stunning as Kurt. He's wearing his black fitted tuxedo trousers. He's been modest with the hair gel today, so his curls are pronounced, but not unruly. His white tuxedo shirt is nothing extraordinary, but his vest is silver grey with a black floral brocade and silver buttons. He had chosen a plain black bow tie to not draw any attention from the beautiful vest. On top of it he's wearing a midnight blue cashmere velvet blazer, with a slightly narrow waist. He loves how the light plays with the colour and fabric, and he instantly knew he had to have it when he went shopping for this ball.

Kurt squeezes his shoulders reassuringly, and Blaine realizes he's been frowning at his reflection.

"I don't think I got to say this, but you look really handsome today, Mr. Anderson," Kurt says softly. "I may even say you look stunning. This looks amazing on you," he says and runs his hands down Blaine's arms.

Blaine turns around and takes Kurt's hands.

"Thank you. It means a lot coming from you. Should we go?"

"That we should," Kurt beams, and tucks his hand in the crook of the elbow Blaine's offering.

Blaine's relieved Kurt doesn't ask how he's doing, if he's sure he wants to go, or offer to stay home again. He's glad Kurt is showing him this kind of trust, letting him know for himself if this gets too much. To be honest, Blaine has tried to not think too much about this, but he doesn't feel nervous. He doesn't feel calm, but he thinks that's mostly because he's still intoxicated by the looks of the man on his arm, and he's excited about the next surprise he has for Kurt.

"Where to?" Kurt asks obviously curious as they walk down the gravelled path across the Dalton campus. The snow disappeared completely after their snowball fight, but a new sprinkle of powder snow decorates and lightens up the path.

"Oh, we're going to this vehicle which is transporting us to the festivities," Blaine answers airily, fully knowing that's not what Kurt meant.

"Thanks for nothing," Kurt mutters, but there's a gleam in his eyes.

They walk past the main building towards the parking lot in companionable silence, Kurt's hand still resting on Blaine's arm.

"Oh my Gaga, would you look at that Lincoln?" Kurt shrieks, pointing at the black, sleek, long vehicle. "Someone's gone out of their way tonight."

Blaine awkwardly rubs his neck with his free hand. He's about to say something, when someone pops up from the roof of the limo.

"Are you coming or what?" Jeff yells at them.

Kurt spins so fast towards Blaine, he's worried the boy might get a whiplash.

Blaine rubs his neck again, hoping this isn't too much.

"Some of the guys rented this together to get to the Ball, we decided it would be classier than arriving in our own cars, looking for parking space and feeding the meter all night."

"Are you telling me I'm riding in that to my first ball?" Kurt asks, voice almost emotionless.

"We can take my car instead, if you'd prefer that," Blaine hurries to offer, afraid this is too much.

"Blaine, listen to me. Are you telling me I get to ride in _that_ to my first ball?" Kurt asks, and Blaine can see he's shivering. And he gets it. Kurt isn't cold. He's simply trying to hold back some of his excitement to stay dignified and act grown up.

"There are two seats for us in there, if you want them," Blaine explains, finally smiling at Kurt.

Blaine has hardly finished his sentence, before Kurt yanks him off towards the car.

"It's a limousine, Blaine. Do I look like someone who'd ever say no to a limo?" Kurt hisses, but his eyes are sparkling.

"Preparing for your Broadway life, are you?"

Kurt turns and grins.

"Perhaps," he says and wiggles his eyebrows.

The impeccable uniform clad chauffeur opens the door for them, and Blaine lets Kurt step inside first.

They are greeted by Jeff, Nick, David and Wes, and get comfortable in the cream leather seats.

"May you now tell me where we are going?" Kurt asks impatiently.

"Haven't you told him anything?" Nick asks curiously.

"To be honest I don't know too many details myself. I haven't been there before, remember?"

"I know, but didn't you get the email from the administration?"

"I guess I could have forwarded that to you, Kurt," Blaine has to admit. "I'm sorry, it slipped my mind during the exams."

"Don't worry. You would have told me if there was something important I needed to know," Kurt shrugs. "But why didn't I get the mail from the administration?"

"I guess it's because I signed up the both of us."

"That makes sense. But I still don't know where we are going." Kurt grins wickedly at him.

"First we're going to St. Elizabeth's to pick up four girls," David interjects.

"Wee, hurray, girls!" Jeff mocks, earning a high five from his boyfriend.

"And then we are going to the Frank Astaire Dance Studio in Westerville, which the schools have rented for our Ball," Blaine continues unfazed.

The limousine has pulled out of the parking lot, and is cruising down the road towards the sister school. Wes is in control of the stereo, shuffling through the radio stations to find the perfect pre-party song. He stops at a frequency playing generic Top 40 hits.

Blaine is watching Kurt with amusement, observing how the boy is taking in his surroundings by studying the interior, running his index finger over the leather and the padded ceiling, trying to look through the tinted windows, and studying the different details. The boy is smiling wide, which makes Blaine smile as well. He just wants both of them to have a nice night. Blaine finally forces his eyes away from Kurt, to do the same as the boy does – study the limousine. It's too dark to see what the others are wearing, and Blaine can't wait to see them properly.

Ten minutes later, the Lincoln stops, and when the chauffeur opens the door David and Wes climb out.

"Where are they going?"

"I would assume they are gentlemen enough to pick up their dates," Kurt snorts, and Blaine could face palm from his own idiocy.

"So I assume David is going with Sharon, but who is Wes going with?"

"He's going with Celia, as friends. Both feel it's wrong to go with someone else so soon after they broke up, and they are civilized about it, so I think this will be painless," Nick shrugs.

"Oh, and Lana and Flora are also joining our ride," Jeff adds excited.

"Sweet, I haven't seen them in ages," Blaine smiles. He adores those girls.

"Who are they?" Kurt asks softly, and Blaine can bet anything he doesn't want to seem as if he's prying.

"Lana is Celia's twin sister, and Flora is Lana's best friend," he explains, and Kurt nods in understanding.

The boys chat eagerly about everything and nothing, until the door is being opened again. Girls' giggles flow through the open door, and Blaine thinks he recognizes the voices.

"Sisters!" Nick greets them excitedly, as Celia and Lana climb into the vehicle.

The girls introduce themselves to Kurt with big smiles, and hug the other three boys before they stumble to the back to sit down in the available seats. Wes and Flora follow after, and the girl waves shyly at the people in the car. Wes sits down next to his "date", and Lana scoots over to offer Flora some space next to her. David and Sharon are the last to arrive, holding hands. Sharon greets them the same way the twins did, before sitting down by her boyfriend. The car is a bit crowded with ten people, but they manage.

"I believe it's about time to get this party started," David announces, and walks bent over to the mini fridge to avoid bumping his head in the ceiling. He then proceeds to pull out three cooled bottles and a packet of disposable flutes.

Blaine notices Kurt is silent beside him.

"Are the glasses too tacky for you?" he leans over to whisper in his ear.

"What?" Kurt looks at him with big eyes. "No, I just didn't expect you to drink alcohol on a school dance."

"Oh, that's it? Don't worry, it's sparkling cider. David wants to impress his girlfriend; not get her drunk."

Blaine can almost see how Kurt's tension dissolves.

Nick, on his right side, hands him two of the flutes David has filled, and he offers one of them to Kurt on his left side.

"To an amazing night!" David toasts, raising his glass to the ceiling.

"Hear, hear!" a chorus of replies fill the car, and they drink to the Christmas Ball.

* * *

The limousine pulls up in front of the building, and butterflies erupt in Blaine's stomach. This is it. He forces himself to breathe calmly, but he feels his heartbeats pounding in his temples.

The chauffeur opens the door for them, and Jeff – who sits closest – gets out first. He extends his arm to help Nick, and the boys quickly kiss when they're both outside. Blaine smiles fondly at them. He's so glad they have each other. He knows how much Jeff has helped Nick recover, and he's blown away by the love they share. And how brave they are.

Blaine gets out of the car, and turns around to see Kurt out as well. The boy's eyes are gleaming with excitement, and Blaine has to smile. Kurt returns the smile, and Blaine feels as if he can breathe more easily.

"Look, Blaine!" Kurt beams, eagerly clutching at his arm.

He can't help laughing, but still looks in the direction Kurt is watching.

From the limousine to the entrance door the hosts have rolled out the red carpet.

"This is such a cliché…" he says, taking a step onto the celebrity fabric.

"I know," Kurt snorts. "But it's still fairly awesome, and I think I like this ball already," he winks.

"I'm glad," Blaine smiles bashfully, and takes in the rest of the front of the building.

It's a moderately sized house, three or four stories tall. A dark oak double door is wide open, inviting them inside. Around it, fir branches with red ribbons are decorating the door frame. Flaming torches are lined up along the red carpet, giving a warm glow to the entrance passage.

"Are you ready?" he asks Kurt.

The boy nods.

"Are you excited?" he asks Blaine.

His answer is immediate and honest.

"I truly am."

Kurt beams, takes his hand, and they walk in together. Blaine tries not to think too much about how he's holding hands with another _guy_, in public. He will not be threatened by his past, he tries to convince himself. He wants to enjoy tonight. Kurt holds his hand tighter for a moment, before letting go, and Blaine wonders if the boy is a mind reader. He's both sad and relieved Kurt let go, and is about to apologize for his cowardness when he recognizes a young woman. She is sitting by a table in the foyer, shuffling through a stack of papers.

"Good evening, Miss Moore," he greets her. As Student President he's been to the principal's office several times, for business of course. And he always takes his time to chat with the principal's helpful and sweet secretary.

"Good evening, Blaine. Haven't I told you to call me Elsa? Are you here to register?"

"That I am, Elsa," he smiles charmingly, and waits for the woman to find his name, so he can sign his arrival.

"And who is your dashing date?" she grins.

"This is Kurt Hummel, he transferred to Dalton a month ago, so maybe you haven't met yet?"

Blaine rests his hand on Kurt's lower back and coaxes the boy to step closer.

"Kurt, this is Miss Moore, she's the woman really running our school."

The boy extends his right arm to the woman.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Moore," he says softly.

"Any friend of Blaine is a friend of mine, so please, call me Elsa. And don't listen to him; he thinks he can get away with anything because of all that flattering of his."

"In that case you must call me Kurt." Kurt leans in and whispers conspiratorially. "Blaine usually succeeds. But I've got him figured out," he says, tapping the side of his nose with his index finger.

"I knew I liked you the instant I saw you!" Elsa grins, and shows where Kurt needs to sign.

"Hey, I'm standing right here," Blaine exclaims indignantly.

"I know you do, honey, such a good boy standing on his own two feet," Kurt coos and pats his cheek.

"Enjoy your evening, boys, and watch out for the mistletoe," Elsa winks, and waves the boys off with a friendly smile so she can take care of the guests queuing up behind them.

Blaine notices Kurt looking around in the lobby with a searching gaze.

"You need a mirror, don't you?" he teases.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Kurt answers haughtily. "Come on, I see a sign for the restrooms pointing down those stairs, and I know you're dying to have a look in a mirror too," he adds, nudging Blaine in the ribs.

"Behave!" Blaine warns.

"Or else?" Kurt smiles wickedly.

"Or else I won't tell at what hour the limo turns into a pumpkin, the driver turns into a mouse, and I turn into a frog.

"Aren't you mixing up the fairytales?"

"Are you telling me I don't know my Disney?"

"Oh, of course not, how could I ever dare to offend your life altering knowledge, good sire?"

"Exactly," Blaine breezes, and stops in front of the mirror in the men's room.

"I should have brought hair spray," Kurt sighs from the next sink and mirror.

"Oh, shush it, you look flawless," Blaine scoffs, as he tries to rearrange some of his curls.

They walk side by side to the doors leading to the ballroom. Blaine thinks maybe he should take Kurt's hand, or offer him his arm again, but he does neither. He just wants to get inside and check out the surroundings first, see how the atmosphere is. Blaine knows he's tense, but he tries to keep his shoulders low and fingers loose. If Kurt notices anything, he doesn't say, and for that Blaine is grateful.

They enter a big room, and are immediately handed green welcome drinks from a waiter. Kurt takes a sip from his glass.

"Mmm, kiwi!"

A stage covers the furthest wall, and it's big enough to put up dance performances and theatre productions. They've put a podium on top of it, to elevate the Glee clubs even more for the big audience. In front of the stage they've made room for a dance floor, with three impressive chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Close to the stage, along the wall, are several round tables. They are clad in white linen table cloths, and decorated with rich poinsettia groups and tall Christmas candles. Blaine quickly counts to at least 20 tables, with ten chairs to each. A long buffet covers the back wall. According to rumours, the buffet consists of delicious finger food.

The room is brimmed with people, loud chatter, laughter and chaos. Classical music is played from subtle speakers across the room. Blaine forces his breathing to calm down. He had told Kurt they would be safe with the policy Dalton brought to the table, but he isn't convinced he feels as reassured anymore.

"Why don't we find a table and sit down for a while?" Kurt suggests, and maybe he's reading Blaine better than he thought.

"Nick and Jeff are sitting over there, do you want to join them?"

Blaine hums his affirmative, and nods as well, in case Kurt can't hear him over the ruckus. Kurt leads way, winding through the masses and tables, until they get to a quieter corner, where also Wes and Celia have joined the boyfriends in the meantime.

Kurt pulls out the chair for Blaine.

"I thought I asked _you_ to go with _me_?"

"So that means I'm not allowed to be a gentleman?" Kurt rolls his eyes.

"I guess not…"

It's actually kind of nice, being treated to these small gestures. Nobody's ever done that for Blaine before. He's always been the polite son pulling the chair out for an older widow or a daughter of his father's colleague. This is new. Blaine likes it.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

"Kurt, before you sit down, you've got to give us a spin so we can check out your outfit more closely," Nick decides.

Kurt happily obliges, preening at the attention.

"You've got some balls, Kurt," Jeff praises.

"What, did you get to see them?" Nick accuses smilingly.

Kurt laughs, but a pink rogue covers his cheek bones.

"I'm not going the authentic Scottish route, guys. I actually designed this myself, in homage to the late Alexander McQueen."

"I don't know why I'm surprised, because I already knew you're fabulous with fashion, but I just have to say wow!" Nick beams.

"That's amazing, Kurt," Blaine gushes, feeling proud of his friend. "Clearly you know what you're doing."

Kurt ducks his head and smiles shyly, but quickly looks up to meet his friends' eyes again.

"Thank you. Not everybody understands this passion, so it means a lot to have my friends' support."

David, Sharon, Lana and Flora join them by the table as well, and they all talk happily about fashion, music and movies until the two principals welcome their students to the annual Christmas Ball.

St. Elizabeth's choir, The Passerines, is welcomed on stage, and about a dozen girls get up from around the room to take the stage.

"I thought I'd use this opportunity to get something to drink. Do you want anything?" Kurt leans over and whispers directly into Blaine's ear.

"Yes, please. You know what I drink, whatever is fine," Blaine smiles politely, and Kurt darts off.

"You OK? You look a bit pale," Wes comments lowly from his other side.

"I'm fine. A bit overwhelmed, I just need to get used to it," Blaine shrugs.

Wes is studying him carefully, and he can see Nick do the same thing from across the table.

"You let us know if it gets too much, OK? The limo is parked around the corner, and it's yours if you need a timeout or want to go back to the dorms."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind, but seriously, I'm fine."

Blaine is grateful for the offer, although he hopes he won't need it. He had been wondering why David had insisted on renting a limo when a couple of taxis would be cheaper. Especially since he didn't want Blaine's money, but saying something about wanting to impress Sharon and having access to his father's master card. But he gets it now. It's his friends' way of looking out for him and giving him a sanctuary available for him all night if he needs it. Blaine thinks he loves his friends a bit more for every day that goes.

"He knows, doesn't he?" Wes asks. "Kurt, I mean."

Blaine nods.

"He's an ace. He's so good for you."

"What do you mean?"

Wes shrugs.

"You may not see it, but you've changed after you met. And not just because you got those permanent 'such an adorable spy'-puppy eyes. He makes you a better person, he makes you more Blaine, I think."

That's the moment when Kurt returns with their drinks.

"This conversation will continue later," Blaine hurriedly whispers to Wes, before giving Kurt his attention.

"I got us punch, I hope that's OK. And look, these are glasses. Real, breakable glasses. I bet at McKinley they would only have tacky red solo cups, which at the end of the night are covering the floors."

Blaine smiles amused at his friend.

"Yup, that's us. Rich, posh kids with class glasses."

Kurt nudges him with his shoulder and laughs softly, before focusing on the stage and The Passerines. Blaine uses the opportunity to check out the surroundings. Some people are watching the stage as if it is a concert; in polite silence and with applause between songs. Other people treat it as background music, and continue their small talk around the table. It eases Blaine's nerves. Maybe 300 people won't be looking at him outing himself to the entire room on stage. He's never had any trouble at Dalton, but the policy is strictly enforced, and nobody dares try anything in the hallways among dapper students and supervising teachers. He really doesn't imagine all the girls from a catholic school to be the most accepting, but he doesn't expect them to be actively homophobes either. Besides, he knows very well that the girls don't have to be catholic, just because the school is. Four of the girls on stage are his friends, and have never told about any bullying or trouble in their school.

The Passerines have finished their last song, _I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus_, and everybody gives them a round of applause. The Warblers' Council takes that as their cue to herd their boys towards the stage. David takes charge of the boys at his table while Wes and Thad gather the rest.

"You were amazing, baby," David greets his girlfriend Sharon as they pass each other halfway to the scene. She had done _All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth_.

The Warblers are crowding up next to the stage, so they can enter it in the orderly fashion they have been practising. They are starting with a group number, so everybody will be on stage. Come to think about it, Kurt's outfit is kind of fitting for his solo they will introduce their performance with.

Standing in the middle of the Warbler-crowd, Kurt takes Blaine's hand, and makes eye contact. He doesn't say anything, but Blaine can read all the questions in his eyes. So he squeezes Kurt's hand back, and smiles. He's OK, he'll survive, he's doing fine, they're going to do this.

Blaine remembers how humbled Kurt had been to get to be the opening act, and he hadn't let go of that feeling even when the Council explained they wanted to start with the slower songs, and end with something more upbeat to set the party mood. That's why Blaine and Kurt are finishing the Warblers' set with their duet, to be an encouragement for people to dance afterwards. Or at least that's what the Council had reasoned and predicted.

The stage is really nice, giving a wonderful background and setting the atmosphere. The backdrop shows some kind of a living room in a posh home, with ornate furniture, rich tapestry, portraits on the wall, a lively fire place – or as lively something one dimensional can get. It seems warm and welcoming, though, not just rich and pretentious. On the stage are a grand piano, and a real Christmas tree covered in decorations and with what looks like Christmas gifts under the tree, but probably just are props. Two leather couches are pierced between the tree and the piano, slightly turned facing each other.

The Passerines had been standing during their entire performance, but the Warblers' council had done their research and knew what the stage would look like. They have prepared for this.

Kurt had asked to stand during his solo, to be sure he could fully take advantage of his diaphragm muscles, and Blaine had preened a bit at that, remembering how he had instructed Kurt how to breathe better during their preparations for Sectionals.

So Kurt is standing in the middle of the stage. Six of the Warblers' are sitting, four are balancing on the arm rests, and the last four are standing behind the couches, providing the deeper beatboxing for _The Little Drummer Boy_. A single spotlight illuminates Kurt, and he seems to glow. Blaine has to swallow. He's so proud of Kurt. Who'd think he came to Dalton just some month ago, after years of bullying and with a death treat as the last addition? He's so strong, fierce and relentless. The courage Blaine had tried to offer had never been necessary, he thinks. Kurt is more than enough for Kurt. Blaine can't help but smile as his friend sings the first verse. The audience is captivated.

The next song makes Blaine send a quick thought up above; hoping some day Kurt will rub off on him. _When You Wish Upon A Star_ is their most challenging and advanced number today, but David had really wanted to do it, and Wes and he had done a wonderful job in making a good arrangement for the Warblers. It may not be the most Christmas-y song, but it's about hope and new beginnings, and it's always the finishing number to Disney's Christmas show on TV. So there was never any doubt among the 15 boys this was the right place to do this. David and Kurt switch places, and Kurt is now standing right behind Blaine.

Next is Nick's _O Holy Night_, and the Council had finally decided to let him sing it all alone, with no accompaniment. His rich and melodious voice for such a tender and yet mighty song would be enough.

The Warblers' performance is going without a hitch, with generous applause from the other students and teachers. Considering how little they have prepared for this, it may be one of the best out of competition-performances they've done in quite a while. Impromptu performances are fun, but they don't expect them to be perfect. But tonight, everything runs smoothly. Or at least it does so far, but then there's their duet… Blaine has to focus on his breathing again, just like his psychiatrist had thought him to do when he needed to calm down and regain control of himself.

A gentle hand is placed on Blaine's shoulder, just resting there for comfort, reminding him he isn't alone. Kurt will be with him. And he always, always has the option to drop the number, if he wants to. That's another reason why they are going last. Wes had confined in him, telling him they could end their performance before the duet on a nanosecond's notice. Blaine has honestly been doing fine until now, but with no singing to do he's got time to think, and that's not healthy. Blaine risks quickly leaning his cheek on Kurt's hand to show he appreciates the gesture.

They continue with their program, singing _Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire_, _Jingle Bell Rock_, _Ding Dong Merrily on High_, and _Feliz Navidad_. Four of them are having a blast with some fake antlers, a big nose and _Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer_, while the rest of the Warblers are trying not to laugh too loud from the couches. They all improvise a silly dance around the tree while singing _Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree_.

The next number is something Thad had found on Youtube, and claimed they simply just had to perform. A male a cappella group called Straight No Chaser were doing a mash up with _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ as the main ingredient, but spiced up with some other Christmas songs, and an unexpected twist of Toto's _Africa_ to finish it off. It sounded complicated, but it turned out they managed to adopt the a cappella quite easily and adjust it for their 15 members. Blaine had googled the group afterwards, and completely fallen in love with them, and he had to show Kurt immediately they were doing a Lady Gaga mash up too.

They all stand up on line for this number. It receives a wild applause, and Blaine wonders if they maybe should end their contribution there, making sure to end it on a high. But then he looks at Kurt, and remembers wanting to be brave. So he takes a deep breath, and nods for Wes to introduce their closing number.

After Wes' parting words to the audience, the 13 other Warblers head off of the stage. As agreed, Kurt and Blaine are sitting in one couch each, and for the rest of the song they will kind of just wing it. Kurt had commented it was quite New Direction'esque of them, but he didn't seem to object. Blaine wants this to be playful and harmless, and he thinks Kurt is just the one person he can improvise with and have fun on the stage with.

The CD with the instrumental version begins, and Kurt opens his mouth.

"_I really can't stay_," he states, and gets up from the couch.

"_But Baby it's cold outside_," Blaine objects, and gets up to make Kurt stay for a while longer.

"_This evening has been So very nice_," Kurt agrees, and smiles coyly at him.

"_I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice_," Blaine promises, covering Kurt's hands with his own and breathing hotly on them.

"_My father will be pacing the floor_," Kurt explains, and Blaine can't help but imagine Burt.

"_Listen to the fireplace roar_," he insists though, and takes Kurt over to the fake background with the roaring fire.

"_Well maybe just a half a drink more_," Kurt resigns, and sits down on the couch again. Blaine dances around the stage as if looking for the crystal carafe.

"_I wish I knew how…_" Kurt ponders.

"_Your eyes are like starlight_," Blaine admirers, and Kurt's eyes really are beautiful.

"…_To break the spell_," he admits.

"_I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell_," Blaine promises, gently stroking a hand over Kurt's hair.

"_Mind if I move in closer?_" he asks, and sits down next to Kurt.

"_I really can't stay_," Kurt shakes his head sadly, and gets up, skipping towards the piano. He sits down by the keys, and plays along with the instrumental bridge before the next verse. Blaine jumps up to sit on the piano.

"_I simply must go_," he says again.

"_But Baby, it's cold outside!_"

"_This welcome has been So nice and warm_," Kurt thanks him, but gets up from the piano stool to leave.

Blaine hurries down from the piano, and jumps over one of the couches Kurt walks around

"_Gosh, your lips look delicious_," he flirts, kneeling in front of the other boy.

"_My brother will be there at the door_," and now it is Finn Blaine can see towering in the background.

Kurt gets away, and Blaine keeps chasing him across the stage – around the tree, playing peek-a-boo among tinsel and candy canes. Back to the piano, and around the two couches.

"_Say, lend me your coat_," Kurt suggests, and pretends to unbutton Blaine's blazer. Blaine swats his hands off, and takes a firm hold of them instead.

"_I thrill when you touch my hand._"

"_I really can't stay_," Kurt says, not letting go of Blaine's hands, but looking away to an imagined door.

"_Get over that hold out_," Blaine pleads, and waltzes the boy to the couch.

They sit down, and finish the song in harmony:

"_Oh, but it's cold outside!_"

They sit down close, Kurt curling his feet under himself. Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt's shoulders, and Kurt lays a gentle hand over Blaine's heart, their other hands laced together, as they sing the last sentence:

"_Baby it's cold outside!_"

The happy performance bubble Blaine's shared with Kurt burst as soon as their voices ebb out, and there's a tense moment where Blaine is gasping for breath and anxiously awaiting the audience's reaction. Kurt is still holding his hand, and squeezes it encouragingly. It doesn't take much more than a second, but to Blaine it feels like an eon.

And then the room erupts in applause, the other Warblers even give them a standing ovation. Kurt tugs on Blaine's hand, bringing him to the front of the stage to bow for their friends, teachers, class mates and other students.

The principal of their sister school gets on stage to thank the Warblers for their contribution and introduce the DJ. Blaine finds himself being escorted off stage by Kurt.

"Aren't we going back to our table?" Blaine asks confused, when he realizes Kurt is guiding him towards the foyer.

"No."

"Then where?"

Kurt doesn't say anything, but pulls Blaine down the stairs from earlier.

"What are we doing?" Blaine asks again as Kurt opens the door to the handicapped bathroom next to the elevator.

"You've been shaking the last five minutes, Blaine. You need this."

Kurt locks the door, and pulls Blaine into a tight embrace.

"Let it all out, sweetie."

It's all it takes for Blaine to deflate. He melts into Kurt, shivers running through his body. He rests his head in the crook of Kurt's neck, forcing himself to breath slowly. He doesn't need to cry; he doesn't want to cry.

"I had fun, but it was scary too…" he chokes.

"I know, Blaine. I know," Kurt murmurs.

He runs a hand gently up and down Blaine's back, the other wrapped around Blaine's waist holding him flush against his own body.

"It's so different, but some of it still feels the same," Blaine admits, thinking back to his first dance. How proud he had been of his new outfit, how excited he was to be going with a cute boy, how much he was looking forward to it. The crowds of well dressed kids, the music, the laughter and noise, the dancing masses, the dark outside, the snow and ice seeping through his clothes as he bled on the parking lot. The pain. The mocking laughter around him. The blue flashing lights and the sirens. The ripped clothes. The pain. The humiliation. The anxiety. The pain. God, the pain in his body and the pain in his heart…

"It's OK, Blaine, you're OK. Just focus on breathing, I've got you."

Blaine can feel his exhales and inhales stuttering. When Kurt removes his arm around his waist for a moment to pull him even closer, he realizes how much he's shaking.

"Fuck, Kurt…"

"I know. I know."

Blaine tries to swallow down the sobs that want to escape, and when he closes his eyes he sees faceless persons laughing as they kick him. A sudden pain in the hip makes him buckle, and he drops to the floor, pulling Kurt with him.

Blaine uses both hands to examine his hip, but it doesn't throb with pain, and he can actually feel his hands running up and down his thigh. There's no blood on his hands after they swipe over his face.

"Blaine, look at me." Kurt cups his chin, forcing Blaine to lift his head and meet Kurt's eyes. "Breath in… Breath out…"

Kurt places one of Blaine's hands on his stomach. "Do as I do, copy me."

He places one of his own hands on Blaine's chest.

"Your heart beats so fast," he murmurs.

They stay kneeling close on the floor, one of their hands somewhere on the others torso. Blaine is leaning his forehead on Kurt's shoulder, Kurt resting his head on Blaine's. Their other hands are laced together on top of their touching knees.

"You smell really nice today," Blaine eventually mumbles.

"Thank you," Kurt chuckles. "It was a 'congratulations on your first dance'-gift from dad and Carole."

"Your father smells like motor oil…"

"He does," Kurt laughs. "Are you getting sleepy, Blaine?"

"Mmm…"

"Come on. We'll get a cab back to Dalton."

Blaine leans back on his feet.

"No," he says sternly. "I promised to dance with you."

"We danced on stage," Kurt reminds him. "I'll gladly leave with you; I've had a wonderful night."

"No… I think I want to be here some more."

"OK," Kurt says calmly. "I'll do whatever you want."

Both boys get up from the floor, and end in front of the mirror to check their hair and faces. Before Kurt unlocks the door again, Blaine catches him for a warm hug.

"Thank you. Thank you for getting me out of there so I didn't have a public meltdown."

Kurt snorts.

"I have to take care of my duet partner, you know."

"Oh, I see how it is," Blaine grins. "I'm pure business for you."

"Do you know how much work it would take to train someone new to replace you?"

Blaine can't help but laugh.

"Come on, let's find something to eat. I won't be much of a duet partner if I starve to death," Blaine teases, feeling much better.

They leave the bathroom.

"How's the arm now the cast is gone, by the way?" He'd forgotten all about it when he came to pick up Kurt and saw his outfit.

"It's such a relief," Kurt beams. "My arm still feels dirty and nasty," he frowns, "and I think it tries to elevate after being held down by the weight of the cast for so long, but otherwise I feel quite liberated," he grins.

"Oh, do you know what that reminds me of?" Blaine smiles eagerly, but Kurt shakes his head. "What would you say if I could make you feel as if you're flying or soaring?"

"I'm intrigued," Kurt smiles curiously.

"Here's what we'll do. I'll hold your arms, and you'll do your best to push them out from your body. OK?"

Kurt simply nods, and Blaine takes a firm hold of Kurt's arms halfway between wrists and elbows.

"Now push all you can, I'll hold for two minutes."

Blaine can feel the resistance and flexing of Kurt's muscles against his hands, and nothing happens. Blaine grins eagerly at Kurt.

"Time's up. Close your eyes, relax your arms, and I'll let go," Blaine whispers. "Soon you'll be soaring."

Kurt follows Blaine's instructions, so he lets go of the boy's arms. Immediately Kurt's arms float upwards, and he lets out the most adorable giggle. His eyes are still closed, so he can't see Blaine putting his hands on Kurt's waist. Blaine lifts him up a foot or so, and Kurt's eyes widen with a yelp, but he giggles as Blaine puts him down again.

* * *

They fill their plates with all kinds of treats from the buffet. Spanish meat balls, scampi, chicken wings, roasted potato, quiche, pasta salad, green salad, olive bread, various cheese, olives, grapes and crackers. Although several dishes have been emptied by the masses, there are still much to choose from. It's impossible to get a taste of every dish.

"Everything looks so delicious!" Kurt gushes, and Blaine has to agree. "I don't know what to choose or where to begin. Oh well, at least the kilt can hide some of the big tummy I'll get from all of this."

Blaine chuckles as he picks some chorizos for his plate.

"You just dance a little afterwards, and you'll be fine," he assures him laughingly.

"Where have you guys been?" Jeff asks as they get back to their table. "You disappeared after your performance."

Blaine frantically searches his brain for a good explanation. He hardly cried and he didn't look any different in the mirror. He's lost count of time, though, so he doesn't even know for how long they were gone. Nick is watching him carefully, as if he's looking for something. Wes and David just smile at him and Kurt, and continue to eat their food. Blaine still doesn't know what to say.

"What can I say? Being chased and courted on stage like that does something to me, so I dragged him out to the limo for a quickie," Kurt says airily.

The explanation earns him a rich round of laugher around the table, but Nick still watches Blaine. He meets his eyes, and gives him a lip tight tiny smile.

"Oh good," David says. "It really hasn't been much of a ball until someone's caught with their pants down. Now we only need someone to spike the punch, and it's complete."

"Please, stop it David. You're ruining everything. You're making Dalton seem like an ordinary public school!" Kurt whines.

_You OK?_ Nick mouths. Blaine smiles somewhat bigger, nods, and looks over at Kurt. His smile grows, so he locks eyes with Nick again, nodding more. Nick grins and winks, and redirects his focus to his boyfriend.

Under the table, Kurt's hand finds Blaine's, and stays there until they are done eating.

"Where did you find quiche? There were too much food on the buffet to get a proper overview," Kurt sighs.

"Here, you can have some of mine. Could I try some of your smoked salmon?"

"Of course," Kurt nods eagerly, and they swap food.

They continue to enjoy their food, while chatting with both the other and their friends around the table.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to find my date and dance with her," David withdraws from the table.

"Yeah, I should do the same, and we'll probably find our dates in the same place. See you guys on the dance floor?" Wes asks, looking at the four remaining boys around the table.

"Of course," Jeff beams.

Wes pats Blaine's shoulder as he leaves, and Nick smiles encouragingly at him. Maybe he can dare to dance with Kurt among their friends. He wonders if it'll be best to choose a song where they can just jump and mess around, or if he should choose a song where he can actually dance and use some of the steps he learned in dancing lessons seven-eight years ago.

Spurred by Nick and Jeff leaving their table for the dance floor, Blaine musters some of that damn courage.

"Kurt, would you like to dance with me?"

The boy beams and nods.

"Yes, I'd love to," he says breathlessly.

They get up, still holding hands, and walk to the dance floor. Most of the Warblers are gathered in some kind of a crowd, so Blaine steers them in that direction to join them.

The DJ is fairly eclectic, and spins a wide variation of records. It's fun to just move, jump and dance without pattern and reason, getting lost in the music. But it's also a thrill to lead Kurt in a dance, following the steps he meticulously studied and repeated all those years ago until he could do them without his eyes or brain. It's different now, though. It was fun dancing when he was a little boy, but it's thrilling and satisfying in new ways now. When he was younger, he was being a good boy and following his parents' wishes for him. Now he's dancing with his best friend, who's also a gorgeous gay guy, and they dance because they want to.

He twirls Kurt around, as they sing the chorus together.

"_You live you learn. You love you learn. You cry you learn. You lose you learn. You bleed you learn. You scream you learn._"

Kurt smiles softly at him, as Alanis and they repeat the chorus.

Blaine watches the dancing people around them; Warblers, other Dalton boys, and girls from St. Elizabeth's. Nobody seems to notice them or care. He looks over at Nick and Jeff, the only other same sex couple he can see on the floor. Jeff waves at him from Nick's back, and Blaine waves back, smiling.

Blaine surprises himself when the DJ lets the soft tones of a ballad fill the room, and Blaine doesn't leave the dance floor. He had thought this would be too intimidating, but he feels almost comfortable. The boys slowly sway to the gentle beat and soothing lyrics, and when the song ends Blaine finds himself taking Kurt's hand and kissing the knuckles.

"Thank you for dancing with me."

"I'm the one who should be saying thank you," Kurt insists.

Blaine checks his treasured pocket watch, and notices it's almost midnight.

"The limousine returns to Dalton soon. Do you want to stay longer and grab a cab later?"

"No, I can't believe we'll miss anything important. I'm fine with going home now."

Blaine smiles fondly at Kurt.

"What?" Kurt asks confused.

"You called Dalton home…" Blaine can't describe how much that means to him, Kurt showing he's really settling down and thriving at Dalton.

"I guess I did," he smiles bashfully.

They walk with David, Wes and their dates back to the Lincoln, and Blaine is glad he has company. He worries he might get flashbacks again if he had been walking in the dark with only Kurt, it being too similar to the situation after his last dance.

Everybody in the car is happy and sated after a successful dance with nice memories and no drama. Blaine crosses his left leg over his right knee, and leans his head on Kurt sitting on his right side. Kurt manoeuvres his arm around Blaine, pulling him closer, and Blaine nestles his head firmer on Kurt's shoulder, resting his left arm on Kurt's waist. Kurt is playing with his cufflinks.

"Are you tired?"

"Exhausted," Blaine admits, and quite fittingly a long yawn interrupts any other words.

Blaine hardly remembers anything from the car drive, not even stopping at St. Elizabeth's to drop off the girls, and must have been dozing in Kurt's arms. He's too tired to feel embarrassed about it, though.

The six boys walk in silence back to the dormitory, only bidding each other good night when they part by their respective rooms. Blaine and Kurt are the last left, and they stop in front of Kurt's door.

"Thank you for going with me to the Ball. Thank you for singing with me. Thank you for making this a wonderful night. And thank you for helping me overcome my aftershocks from my first dance…" Blaine doesn't know how to express his gratitude towards Kurt, but hopes he will grasp some aspects of how Blaine feels.

"I'm the one who should say _thank you_, Blaine. Thank you for being a perfect gentleman and duet partner. Thank you for an amazing first ball. Thank you for being brave. Thank you for trusting me, and being such a good friend."

Both boys have thick throats and moist eyes, and laugh awkwardly and self consciously as they hug good bye and go to their rooms.

Blaine closes his door, and leans heavily onto it, exhaling. The Ball went so much better than he feared, but it's still been an emotional and difficult evening. He feels exhausted, drained, emptied. His fortress is down, and he wonders what the night will bring of flashbacks and nightmares.

He quickly undresses, making sure to secure the clothes on their hangars to prevent wrinkles. He slips into his pyjamas pants and a tank top, and goes to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.

Even if he's finished, he stays, leaning heavily on the counter and critically examining his reflection. So often he isn't able to see anything but the beaten boy from two years ago. Tonight, though, he thinks he may see the contours of a somewhat older Blaine. Someone who's trying to put his past behind him and move on. Maybe someday he'll be someone who can sing a duet with a male partner in public without breaking down.

Blaine is so busy scolding himself in the mirror, he doesn't notice the pyjamas clad Kurt entering the bathroom too. The other boy washes and moisturizes his face and brushes his teeth, all the time while Blaine is staring in the mirror.

Kurt takes Blaine's hand, and leads him back to his room. Blaine all but falls into bed, and without hesitation Kurt crawls into bed as well. He tucks them safely under the covers, and gently spoons Blaine.

"You don't look like someone who should be alone now," he explains. "Good night, Blaine."

"G'night Kurt..." Blaine mumbles back, already drifting off to Dreamland.

With Kurt holding him, Blaine sleeps the whole night through without a single nightmare or flashback.

* * *

**AN:**

**The blue rose in the boys' boutonnière is chosen because of this description of its symbolism and meaning:**

_**The blue rose means mystery. An appreciation for the enigmatic, the inexplicable is expressed by blue roses. A tantalizing vision that cannot be totally pinned down, a mystery that cannot be fully unravelled is the blue rose. A person who receives the blue rose is the subject of much speculation and thought. A complex personality that does not allow easy interpretation is what the blue rose indicates.**_

_**The blue rose being in itself something very extraordinary expresses that very same feeling. "You are extraordinarily wonderful", the blue rose exclaims. A truly wonderful personality, almost chimera-like is what the blue rose says about the receiver.**_

_**New opportunities and new possibilities are also some other meanings of the blue rose. The blue rose denotes the excitement and the possibilities that new ventures bring. The mysterious beginnings of new things and the excitement therein are very nicely expressed by this flower. **_

**Performances borrowed:**

Straight No Chaser – _12 days_

**Lyrics from:**

Misc. – _Baby It's Cold Outside_

Alanis Morissette – _You Learn_


	26. Counting Birds

**Thank you for all the loving you gave my last chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, although I've borrowed tidbits of dialogue from canon here - cyber chocolate sprinkled cookies to those who notices.**

* * *

When Kurt wakes up the next morning, something heavy holds him down on the mattress. The sun shines in through the window. Blaine must have forgotten to draw the curtains before he basically collapsed last night. Blaine is sprawled in bed like a starfish. His head is nestled on Kurt's shoulder, and his upper body covering Kurt's torso. One arm is tucked under the pillow they're sharing, and the other is splayed around Kurt's waist. One of his ankles is tucked between Kurt's own. He is trapped. If he tries to get up, he'll only wake up Blaine.

So he decides to stay for a while longer.

Blaine's face is all scrunched up and sleepy. His long eye lashes rests against his tan skin, and the curls on his head aren't completely trapped in gel any longer. His lips are pouting from how he's tucked his face against Kurt, and puffs of breath through his slightly parted lips make Kurt feel all warm and tingly along his clavicle.

The bed really isn't big enough for two persons, so that may explain how they have ended up so intertwined. Still, Kurt thinks they could have managed to put a couple of inches of free space between them if they wanted to. He doesn't think he wants to, though.

Slowly, slowly and carefully Kurt repositions to lie more comfortable, trying not to stir Blaine. He wraps his arms around the other boy, feeling his heat and muscles through his thin tank top. With Blaine fast asleep, Kurt allows himself a moment to metaphorically drool over Blaine's nice, bare arms.

He wants to chuckle at the cliché of ending the dance in someone else's bed. He hopes he did the right thing, but Blaine had seemed so lost and small in front of the mirror last night. He didn't understand all of Blaine's reactions in the handicapped toilet after their duet yesterday, but it almost seemed as if Blaine was having some kind of phantom pains when he collapsed to the floor, and he most definitely had been examining his leg and face for something. The way he was shaking and having difficulties controlling his breathe had almost freaked Kurt out. He'd managed to stay calm for Blaine's sake, but it was still scary. And although everything seemed fine afterwards, Kurt doesn't think Blaine was completely done with his meltdown. So when he saw him in their bathroom yesterday, he'd made a rushed decision to spend the night, hoping to help him through any potential nightmares. He didn't want a wonderful evening to end that way.

Because the Ball had been everything Kurt could have dreamed of, and even much more. He'd felt comfortable in his own design, and Gods know how much the wrong clothes can ruin a night. Blaine had looked absolutely drool worthy in his outfit, and Kurt is glad Jeff suggested to take their picture with Kurt's phone. He'll cherish that memory for ever. When Kurt Hummel went to his first dance, he had the hottest and best dressed guy in the room on his arm. The limo had been all kinds of awesome. OK, maybe a bit over the top and cliché, but hey, if David wanted to spend that kind of money on his girlfriend and offered his friends the rest of the seats, Kurt wasn't opposed to arrive his ball with style, the red carpet being the icing on the cake. He's pretty sure he can cross out some of the items in his bucket list after yesterday.

The boutonnières had been an elegant and sweet touch. Kurt knows the handmade blue rose symbolizes the mysterious, extraordinary, complex and inexplicable. He can live with that, and takes it as the compliment it is. Kurt has never aimed for blending in and being ordinary.

The food had been delicious, although he'd eaten way too much. He'll have to pay attention to what he stuffs in his mouth for the next weeks. Christmas is coming up, and that is bound to be a feast of gorging. Dancing with Blaine had been amazing, as he expected it to be. Blaine had proven his skills during his welcome to the Warblers-party, and he hadn't let Kurt down now either. He'd noticed they tended to stay close to their friends, but Kurt didn't mind at all. He most certainly didn't want to hide away from their friends, and he could appreciate the extra hint of security and safety being among friendly faces. Kurt is sure he would never have been that bold at McKinley, so it's nice to see that other parts of the world can treat him differently and better.

Kurt had at moments allowed himself to let go, enjoy and pretend the Ball was a date. Realistically, he knew it wasn't, because both involved have to be aware of it being a date if it is supposed to be a date, right? But it doesn't matter. Kurt had a perfect evening, he would capture and savour every single moment, no matter if they seemed friendly or romantic.

The Passerines' performance had been entertaining, and the Warblers' own contribution had been fairly successful in Kurt's opinion. He still can't believe how randomly he got his solo, but it was such a thrill, and he wishes he had friends outside of the Warblers who could have filmed it, or at least taken some pictures as a memory. Then the duet with Blaine. Oh my God, Blaine had been so loose, playful and flirty – he had been more of the Blaine Kurt has gotten to know when they are alone. Blaine always lets loose on stage, but yesterday had seemed… As if it was completely, utterly liberating for Blaine to do that number. And maybe it had been, maybe it had meant more to Blaine than Kurt realizes, considering how he almost fell apart afterwards. The duet had been fun for Kurt – a chance to showcase his talent, a chance to perform in a lead position, and a chance to make an unforgettable memory with his epic crush. But maybe it had been more transcendental for Blaine. Maybe Blaine had invested more of himself and put more on risk than Kurt can ever understand without having been through the same trauma Blaine's still struggling with.

The thought makes Kurt hold Blaine closer, firmer, and his admiration and respect for the boy grow. He already felt so much pride for Blaine. He went to the Ball on his own initiative, and even dared to take his turn in sticking out like a sore thumb by going with Kurt, dancing with Kurt, singing with Kurt. He's so strong and brave, and Kurt will have to make sure he tells Blaine exactly so when the opportunity raises itself.

Blaine shifts slightly, moving his head down to rest on Kurt's chest. A soft barely there snore makes Kurt suppress giggles, but he allows himself to run a hand through Blaine's unruly hair, down his back, and lace it with his other hand again.

"Don't mind me, I'm just here to pick up a book Blaine's borrowed," Wes says, startling Kurt. He'd been so lost in his own mind; he didn't even notice the boy entering the room.

"Um, good morning," Kurt croaks awkwardly, voice rough from lack of use.

A part of him wants to jump out of Blaine's bed and run to his own room, but another part of him wants to let Blaine sleep as long as possible. He must be exhausted after his emotional whirlwinds yesterday.

"Slept well?" Wes asks nonchalantly, and Kurt just nods, wondering when the punchline will fall.

"You know, if you told me were the gavel is, I wouldn't have to tell anybody what I saw in here."

Kurt inwardly scoffs. Trying to use blackmail against him, his own method? Really?

"And what is it that you think you're seeing?" Kurt asks softly, still anxious about awakening Blaine.

It doesn't seem to be the answer Wes expected.

"Well, I wouldn't know about technicalities," he wiggles his eyebrows, "but you do look very… ah, sated, should I say?"

Kurt actually laughs out loud at that.

"Feel free to rip off our covers to get your evidence," he challenges.

"Wouldn't it be embarrassing to walk out in the common's room after I've told everybody I saw you in the same bed?" Wes asks optimistically.

Kurt pretends to think about it for a second.

"Not more embarrassing than when we slept in the same couch during our rehearsal weekend, or when we've fallen asleep on top of each other during movie nights in the common's room, or when someone winks at us because we get so cuddly during the same movie nights, or the wolf whistles we got during one of the rehearsals for _Baby It's Cold Outside_. I really don't think people will see this as any stranger."

Wes looks defeated.

"So no gavel?"

"No gavel," Kurt smirks.

Wes smiles sadly, and leaves them.

Kurt briefly wonders if they perhaps are acting a bit weirdly, and should have a talk about boundaries and definitions. But for now, he'll relax with his _best friend_ in his arms.

Kurt must have dozed off, because the next thing he registers is some faint noise from Blaine's desk. Blaine and he must have turned in their sleep as well, as Kurt is now lying on his side, face towards the wall, and Blaine is spooning him. He's got a firm hold on Kurt, his strong arm safely tucked around his waist. Their feet are intertwined, and Kurt can feel Blaine's body pressed flush against his back. But someone or something is making a noise, and Kurt is too curious not to turn around. Carefully he does a 180 in Blaine's arms, hoping the boy will still stay asleep. Blaine says something muffled and indecipherable, and shuffles slightly further down in bed, until his forehead is nuzzled close to Kurt's neck. Kurt peeks at the desk over Blaine's head, and his eyes meet those of Nick.

"Sorry I woke you up, but I need to borrow Blaine's literature notes," he apologizes sincerely.

Kurt shakes his head.

"S'okey. What time's it?" he mumbles scratchily.

Nick checks his wristwatch, and Kurt is silently amused by it. All his friends use their phones for that, and he hardly thinks anyone has got wristwatches anymore. That's an industry that must have taken a mean hit when the mobile phones become common. Blaine has his inherited pocket watch, but otherwise Kurt can't name someone under 40 who uses a wristwatch. Maybe Dalton boys are special. Or old fashioned. Or outdated.

"Half past eleven," Nick whispers.

Kurt goes wide eyed.

"Seriously?" he shrieks, and Blaine stirs. He automatically rubs his hand up and down Blaine's back to sooth him.

"Knowing Blaine, yesterday was a mental challenge to him, so I'm not surprised he sleeps in. He looked exhausted in the limo back home."

"Yeah, I know. He looked so drained and lost, so I decided to…"

Kurt doesn't know how he can best complete that sentence without trigging the right – or maybe the wrong - wheels in Nick's mind.

"Thank you for being there for him, and helping him do this. I think he needed to go to that ball, to challenge and conquer his inner demons. It'll only make him stronger, even though it was painful for him."

"It was nothing," Kurt shrugs, because really, it was nothing, compared to how much it must have taken Blaine to go.

"It's everything, Kurt. You're so good for him. I guess you can't see it, but Blaine has changed a lot since he first met our 007 Endearing," Nick grins quickly, but becomes serious again before Kurt can even groan and blush. "No matter how you end up defining your relationship, you've helped him a lot, and you're the most important and influential person in his life now."

Kurt narrows his eyes in confusion, and frowns. Surely Wes, David, Nick, Jeff or his family will have to take that position? They just met!

"As I said, you may not see it. But you make Blaine better. Sometimes we hardly recognize him, and I bet it's because he's coming out of his fog, showing us the Blaine he could have been without the attack. I wish I knew him before he came to Dalton, so I could compare. But what I do know is that a watershed occurred when you approached him. Jeff and I have spent a lot of time discussing Blaine before and after _TD_."

"TD?"

"_Teenage Dream_," Nick grins.

Kurt simply rolls his eyes.

"Kurt, seriously though," Nick says, and takes the hand Kurt is unconsciously running up and down Blaine's back. "Don't underestimate yourself. I think we both know Blaine can be an oblivious idiot who hides his emotions and are the king of mixed signals. So I thought I'd say it myself, in case he doesn't let you know what you mean to him. I'm no mind reader, but I can easily see this, at the least," he says, giving Kurt a meaningful look.

Kurt nods to show he's heard him.

"Well, I'm off to work on the English essay. Maybe I'll see the two of you for lunch?"

Kurt's stomach growls at the thought of food, and Kurt himself groans at the thought of the _two_ essays he has to hand in by Friday.

Nick laughs, waves, and leaves with Blaine's literature notes.

Kurt stays in bed for maybe ten more minutes, before he decides they need to get up if they'll have any hope of getting to lunch before the kitchen closes.

Waking up Blaine is surprisingly easy, as he begins to stir as soon as Kurt shakes his shoulders and talks to him. But really, after almost 11 hours of sleep he should feel fairly rested. Although Kurt can't believe he slept for that long too. He guesses the exams have been more draining on him than he knew.

"Good morning," Blaine smiles sheepishly as he stretches and yawns, with Kurt lying as still and close to the wall as he can to give Blaine his space to wake up.

"I think that'd be stretching it a bit far," Kurt snorts. "It's around noon," he adds in explanation.

Blaine looks even more sheepishly.

"Oops…" he smiles apologetically.

They figure out who should use the bathroom first, and when Kurt enters his own room wrapped in his bathrobe, a blue rose pinned to his corkboard is the first thing that catches his eye. He smiles for himself.

Out of habit he checks his phone, and he has two missed calls from Mercedes and Tina, and two new, almost identical messages. Carole and Quinn are both asking how the Ball went. Grinning smugly, he simply sends them a picture message – one of the shots Jeff took of the two of them together. Blaine is posing dapperly for the camera, while Kurt's glancing sideways at Blaine, looking a bit awestruck. They're resting an arm on the other's lower back, and looking so relaxed and comfortable with each other, without the picture seeming intimate or private. _My best friend_, Kurt thinks, and his heart cracks a little.

* * *

After lunch, Kurt decides to bring his phone out into the sun, and walk around in the park where his friends conjured up the magical Mission Moon. He calls Mercedes to gush about last night. It turns out Tina is also there, so Mercedes puts Kurt on speaker.

"I'm so glad for you, Kurt, could it have been any more perfect?" Tina squeals after Kurt has given them a recap of the highlights.

He doesn't mention anything about Blaine's past, his meltdown, or them spending the night together. It's private, it isn't his story to tell, it belongs to Blaine, and Kurt is humbled to be let in so close – he won't betray that trust.

"Oh, Mr. Dapper McWarbler could have swayed you off of your feet with some passionate kisses and love declarations, _that_ would have made it completely perfect," Mercedes grins.

"Weren't there any mistletoe?" Tina asks, obviously excited by the thought of Blaine and Kurt kissing.

"Yes," Kurt admits, remembering how David and Sharon, and Nick and Jeff, had shared sweet kisses under a plant hanging from the ceiling in a corner of the ballroom – as if someone in the organizing committee had prepared a kind of kissing booth.

"And?" the girls sound impatient.

"And?" Kurt repeats scandalized. "Did you expect I'd drag him over and smack him a big one, just to see what happened? 'Cause that wouldn't have been awkward at all!" he snorts.

"But don't you think he likes you?" Tina asks softly.

"Don't you think he would have made a move yesterday, if he does?" Kurt sighs, forcing away the naïvely optimistic voice in his head telling him Blaine had enough on his plate yesterday, if he shouldn't add wooing and courting to it too.

"Or maybe he thinks as you do, and waits for you to show some initiative?" Mercedes parries.

"Then he'll have to wait for a while. I'm not about to risk our friendship without better odds than that."

"When you come home for your winter break, we'll help you analyse and evaluate Sturdy McVelvetVoice's behaviour and intentions," Mercedes promises.

"What's up with the Scottish Mc-names anyway?" Kurt asks to avoid commenting on her suggestion.

"You wore a _kilt_, Kurt. When you get married, you can create a new surname for the two of you, and use the Mc to commemorate this beautiful night," Mercedes sighs dreamily.

"Oh, Blurt McAndermel," Tina suggests excitedly, always having had a quick brain, although Kurt is beginning to doubt her intellect. "Or Klaine McHummelson. I can totally see the sign by your doorbell," she says seriously.

"Girls, have you been sniffing Lord Tubbington's fur, or something?"

He doesn't know if their girly giggles are a confirmation of it or not.

Laughingly, he politely ends the conversation when he approaches the dormitory building. He has two unwritten essays calling for him.

* * *

By Tuesday evening, Kurt has decided he's about to lose his mind.

He's looking at his roughly drafted French essay on how social medias can influence and change society. And when Kurt thinks about it as a rough draft, that's actually looking extremely kindly at it. He's basically dotted down some examples on social medias, like Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, MySpace and YouTube. But what his topic and approach will be, he's got no clue about.

His English essay is coming better along, though, and he would say he's about halfway. The main question they need to approach and find their angle on is if the written language and the art of reading books are dying. The task is accompanied with references to decreased sales numbers from book stores and a negative development for books borrowed in libraries. Another attachment mentions research showing how high school graduates have poorer writing skills than their parent generation had, and examples on how the language has decreased with words disappearing.

Kurt wants to write about fanfiction, and the literate magic of people sitting down freely during their spare time to write their reactions, interpretations, continuations and alternative explanations on things they see on TV – without getting any money or a degree from it. He wants to find examples on how fanon have become canon to show the importance and influence it has, when producers and script writers take fanfiction serious enough to find inspiration from it. He wants to mention _50 shades of grey_ to show how what started out as fanfiction ends up published as an example on how fanfiction can actually lead to something – for instance book sales, a new author, and increased reading because of peaked curiosity and public controversy.

But now, halfway into his essay, he's getting cold feet and wondering how this will be considered by the Dalton staff. Can he mention a book like _50 shades of grey_? Will they want a more academically approach to the topic. Does he need solid facts and figures to support his theses? What are the expectations and criterias from the Dalton teaching staff?

Kurt knocks his head on the desk five times, but of course it doesn't help. His mind is still lost, and he isn't sure if he should start all over on the essay or continue down this path. And he most certainly doesn't know what to do with his French paper.

He sighs so hard his lungs almost jumps, and texts Blaine.

_SB?_

They hardly have any classes this week, so most of their time has been spent by their respective desks or in the library to work on their essays. The Council cancelled all Warblers' rehearsals this week, after congratulation them on a wonderful performance on Saturday. Yes, the Council had described it as wonderful. Posh boys, Kurt had snorted at the text during a brief moment when he'd looked away from his laptop.

He's put his phone on silent, so he won't be disturbed. A frantic Blaine had burst into his room yesterday around lunch, wondering why the hell (although Blaine hadn't exactly used _that_ word, the meaning was still clear) he didn't answer his texts and calls. Kurt had explained, Blaine had understood, and decided to do the same – but they'd agreed to check their phones now and then, and send the other a text whenever they planned a study break, in case the other needed a time out too. Kurt had also agreed to not work himself crazy, and actually take some breaks. So for the last 36 hours they've exchanged several _Study break?_-texts. Now Kurt has shortened it to the three signs, to save time, that's how stressed he is.

Their breaks have been everything from meeting halfway between their rooms in the bathroom for five minutes of frustrated yelling and ranting, to an hour long walk in the park during sunset with two thermos mugs of coffee sharing Christmas memories and traditions.

"Come watch me shave?" Blaine asks from the open bathroom door.

"That's not the weirdest request I've ever had," Kurt snorts, but gets up from his desk chair.

"I rub my face in my hands for every second sentence I write, and I'm getting beard burns in my palms," Blaine fake wines.

"The writing goes splendidly, I understand," Kurt sympathizes, sitting down on the toilet lid.

Blaine rolls his eyes at him in the mirror, as he moistens his face with a wet wash cloth. Kurt can feel flip-flaps from tiny wings in his stomach. He can't remember Blaine ever did that when they first met, and wonders if it's something Blaine's picked up from him. And he wonders if he's picked up anything from him.

"How are your essays coming along?" he asks, as he starts spreading shaving foam on his face. Although he is focused on the shaving process, he still watches Kurt in the mirror to show he's listening and paying attention.

Kurt explains the topic for his French essay about social medias, and how he wants to say something sensible and rational about it. He just needs a good case as a starting point, some examples to support his argumentation.

Blaine rinses his hands and turns around, leaning on the sink.

"Do you remember the study group in my room, when we talked about the French revolution?"

Kurt can't help but giggle at the foamed Santa Claus-face talking to him, but he nods.

"Do you remember how we compared the suffragettes' illegal pamphlets with blogs and discussion forums?"

Kurt nods eagerly, he does remember.

"Yes," he hisses, "and somehow we began talking about Madonna in Russia, and the online mobilization to support gay rights."

Blaine looks pointedly at him through the mirror while preparing the razor.

"Got it," Kurt chuckles.

"Another example you might use is how Twitter and Facebook plays an important part in live news broadcasting of war and terror. Remember the shooting at the Batman screening in Colorado?

"Thank you, Blaine, my mind just went all blank, and I couldn't think at all," Kurt says solemnly. It's a serious topic they're approaching.

"And how is your English essay going?" Blaine deflects, and pulls the skin over his jawbone taut to shave.

Kurt explains his desired approach for their question, what he'd like to say, which examples he's thinking about, but also his hesitance as he doesn't know what the teachers will accept and what will be over the top.

Blaine rinses foam and stubs off of the razor, and turns around towards Kurt. He leans his butt on the bathroom counter, and half his face is covered in shaving foam.

"You don't have to worry about uptight and old fashioned teachers here. The school may be old, but the teachers want us to be forwardgoing, reflective, critical, and progressive. I think your examples will show you are updated on current literature debates, you aren't afraid of talking about things that aren't necessarily political correct, your take on fanfiction shows creativity and originality, and it's easy to support your argument with facts and numbers. Your approach screams you, and a Kurt Hummel original is not to be underestimated," Blaine grins.

"So nobody will scrunch their noses in distaste?"

"I don't think we have any huge puritans among the staff, and if so it shows you are bold. As long as you can land and balance it, boldness is rewarded."

Kurt nods absentminded, lost in thought.

"OK… I think I'll go with it, then. I don't have time for any dramatic alterations anyway. Thank you for your input and calming me down! How is your paper coming along?"

"I've chosen to focus on the English language changing, debating it's positive and negative consequences. I'm arguing for language being something fluid and in constant change, and I'm trying to find a good quote from one of the ancient Greek philosophers to support me there. For more modern examples, I show how we get new words and terms all the time, for instance when the computer and mobile phone became common. And there's this idea on the tip of my tongue that your last text can make a good case, but I can't completely phrase it yet," Blaine explains, before continuing to shave the other half of his.

"Do you mean the SB?-text?"

Blaine nods in the mirror.

Kurt thinks about it for a while.

"Well…" he drawls. "I hardly believe my writing skills have become worse just because of one scamp text. But the situation caused for that abbreviation. Would it be possible to see texting as a new language, as an addition and not a substitute? It can be a sign of creativity and playfulness with the language. Don't you think?" Kurt tilts his head, waiting for an answer to see if Blaine is following his thought string.

Blaine beams and gives a thumbs up, before pulling his nose to shave over his lip.

"I mean, my text to you was basically an SOS. Would it be far fetched to compare it to morse code and telegraphy, where a certain language is developed for a certain usage?"

Blaine rinses his face before he turns around to answer Kurt with his smooth skin.

"I like those ideas. I'll have to balance it in the paper, because it isn't the entire truth. But you give me arguments and perspectives to see it from more angles, and I like that. Thank you!" he beams. "It's like lolspeak too, I guess. As long as we still know how to write the words, it shouldn't matter if we play with them. There are different arenas. Why should IM and business letters require the same kind of tone and language? You've given me food for thought, thank you," he smiles sincerely.

Blaine clears away his shaving equipment and washes his hands.

"Back to the paper?" he asks.

"Back to the paper," Kurt confirms.

Both boys head back to their computers, brain loaded with new inspiration and motivation for their papers.

* * *

Late Wednesday evening finds Blaine again groaning over the keyboard, hands running frustrated through his hair and over his face. He's got all this wonderful punch lines and points ready in his mind, but written down on screen they all just seem wrong. He clearly won't convince anyone the English language isn't in danger, as long as he isn't able to phrase his opinions any better than this.

Blaine groans, and glares around in his room, as if looking for inspiration. His eyes lands on the phone resting on his nightstand, and by chance the screen is lit. He escapes from the office chair, and answers the call without checking the display.

"Ummm. Hi?" a male voice on the other end says.

"Good evening, how may I help you?" Blaine asks politely, deciding this isn't a telemarketing call.

"You're Blaine, right?"

"Yes, I am," Blaine confirms.

"Blaine at Dalton-Blaine?"

Blaine doesn't know if he's mostly entertained or scared, but he still confirms.

"And who am I talking to?"

"Oh, right, it's Finn."

For a moment Blaine can't remember knowing any Finn's, but then it dawns on him.

"Do you need to talk with Kurt? Just a moment, I'll get him for you."

"No man, I wanted to talk with you. I nicked your number from his phone when he was home for Thanksgiving in case I'd ever need it."

"OK," Blaine murmurs, curiosity all peaked.

"I just wondered… How is he doing, really?"

Blaine silently wonders where the question comes from.

"Has he mentioned anything happening or given you reason to worry?" Blaine asks hesitantly, not understanding what Finn's aiming at.

"No, but he didn't tell us all about the shit that went down at McKinley either, so I wanted to check it out on my own. You hang out like all the time, so I thought maybe you'd know."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. I think we both know Kurt isn't one to open up much when he hurts, but at least I haven't seen any signs of distress. He's glad to have his cast off, he's working hard on two papers due tomorrow night, he's a cherished member of the Warblers, and I honestly think he's settled down here," Blaine admits, hoping he isn't breaking his friend's trust by saying this.

"Oh. That's… That's good," Finn finally says, but he seems almost sad.

"I take it you miss him?" Blaine guesses, feeling comfortable with the odds of being right.

"Yeah…" Finn sighs. "We all do."

Blaine nods, even though he knows Finn can't see him.

"I mean, we all want him to be safe, happy and all," he hurriedly adds. "But it still sucks. I don't think anyone of us realized how important he is to us until he was gone. And it's not like he just transferred school and we can hang out in the afternoons. All we've got left are weekends, and not even every weekend. That's not a lot," Finn concludes.

"He'll be home for Christmas soon, make sure to use that time wisely," Blaine advices. "Maybe you can even talk out some arrangements for the next year to meet up more often? Maybe you can do something together in Columbus a weekend. Or you can find a coffee shop in Bellefontaine some afternoon, that's less than an hour away for both of you."

Blaine doesn't know what else to say. He never looked back when he left his school, and didn't try to stay in touch with anyone there. He doesn't know how one tackles such challenges, and is improvising to help Kurt's step brother.

"That's really good ideas, dude. I'll talk with him when he gets back home, and we have to throw a real New Directions-party during Christmas for him. Thanks, man!"

"Not a problem," Blaine laughs at the eager giant.

"But he's really doing OK, you think? He hasn't answered my texts or calls the last days, so I got scared something had happened to him."

"Like I said, he has two papers due this week, so I think he's been screening any kind of phone activity that doesn't improve his essays," Blaine reassures the boy.

"And nobody is giving him any shit for being gay, right? Quinn showed me a picture of the two of you, and I think that rocked, it's like gay Braveheart," Finn gushes. "But maybe not everybody appreciates dudes in skirts, you know."

"His outfit was a success, and the comments he got were those of approval and compliments," Blaine answers neutrally, trying not to reveal how much he himself had admired Kurt's fashion statement.

"And how about you, man?"

"How about me what?" he croaks, feeling busted.

"Are they treating you right, too?"

_Oh._ Blaine didn't expect that kind of concern from a fairly distant acquaintance like Finn.

"Yes," he smiles fondly. "Dalton is a great place, and my friends don't care. Especially not my gay friends," Blaine laughs.

" You guys are all gay?" Finn asks, clearly confused.

"No. I mean, I am, but two of my closest friends are dating girls. Two other of my dearest friends are dating each other, though," Blaine adds, enjoying teasing the boy for a moment.

"So Dalton isn't a gay school?" Finn asks again, clearly in need of a clarification.

"We just have a zero tolerance for harassment policy. Everybody gets treated the same no matter what they are. It's pretty simple," Blaine shrugs it off cool, although he appreciates and values that policy highly every single day.

"That's cool, we should have had something like that at McKinley too…"

…_so that Kurt could come back_, Blaine silently finishes the sentence for him.

"Are there anything else I can help you with? Otherwise I have a paper with my name on it."

"Oh dude, of course, if Kurt is sweating with a deadline, I should have guessed you are too. Sorry, man, I just needed to hear he's OK."

"That's quite alright, Finn, it's sweet of you to care about your step-brother."

"He's my little brother," Finn corrects him, and Blaine can hear the smile in his voice.

The boys end their conversation, and Blaine looks at his paper with fresh eyes. New sentences are forming in his brain and his fingers type them rapidly. He ctrl s' after every third sentence to avoid losing the labour of his newfound writing mojo.

* * *

Thursday breakfast is spent at their usual table, the six friends all feeling restless and jittery, less than 24 hours before their deadline for the English paper, and in Kurt's case also his French paper.

Inspired by the efficient study groups, Kurt had suggested they read one of the other's papers. That way, they get a set of new eyes to look through what they've written so far and someone commenting objectively. At least Kurt's beginning to feel dizzy and blind in front of his laptop. The other boys had jumped in with the plans, and were willing to sacrifice one hour for this. Wes had read Kurt's paper, and given him several helpful questions and comments, enabling Kurt to strengthen and clarify his argumentation. Kurt had read Jeff's paper, and was intrigued by his approach. Jeff talked about audio books as a new way to enjoy literature in a hectic life – playing it in the car or on your iPod while stressing around. But even audio books still need to be created, if not written.

David came by Kurt's room before dinner, and offered to read through Kurt's French paper.

"I know you ace in French, but Blaine said you were a bit stressed out having two deadlines tonight, so I thought a pair of fresh eyes wouldn't hurt there either, just in case."

Kurt had accepted and appreciated the offer. David spent dinner with spaghetti Bolognese and Kurt's laptop, as a consequence also forcing Kurt to relax his brain for thirty minutes. David had offered some good pointers on a couple of sentences that needed clarifying, not to mention pinpointing the paragraph where Kurt suddenly was writing in English – how had he not noticed that?

* * *

24 hours later. A new day, a new breakfast, a new atmosphere. The six boys have handed in their seven papers that morning, and a sensation of accomplishment and emptiness flow over their round table. This is it, there are no more they can do for this semester's grades. They've done their best. Now what?

"I don't even understand why we have lessons today," Kurt groans, stabbing frustrated at his syrup covered pancakes. It's their last day together before winter break, so Kurt had decided to splurge for the occasion.

"It's tradition," Blaine says solemnly. "The week isn't over, and Dalton provides us with an education until the semester is officially done."

"But why being taught things _after_ we've had our exams?"

"There are always new tests," Blaine shrugs.

"Don't you think this is a waste of time at all?" Kurt asks optimistically, directing the question at Nick, Jeff, Wes and David. "Don't you just want to make an uproar and protest? Wouldn't you rather be packing your bags and prepare to get out of here?"

"Baby, are you that eager to leave us?" Nick mocks hurt, resting an arm on the back of Kurt's chair.

"Yes," Kurt agrees. "Yes, you are all terrible boys, and I can't wait to get out of here. There's nothing here worth staying for, I don't think I really want to come back either."

The table drops dead silent, ten eyes looking at Kurt with confusion, uncertainty and hurt.

"Call me baby one more time, and that _will_ be the outcome," Kurt glares at Nick after a minute.

The tension encapsulating the table dissolves to nothingness, and they all crack up in laughter.

"You got me for a moment there, Hummel. Well played, well acted," Wes nods approvingly.

"Why are you so against that nickname anyway?" Jeff asks.

He's sitting two chairs away from Nick, after Wes proposed either banning the boys from their table or they sit with a respectable distance preventing them from being too coupley and mushy in front of his food. Kurt suspects he may be a bit heartbroken after ending it with Celia, even though they are still friends. Kurt also knows that Jeff and Nick had decided to sit across of each other on the circular table so that they could play footsie. Or at least that's what he resonated, when Nick accidentally foot-flirted with his own outstretched feet the other day.

"It just makes me feel so degraded and dependent, as if I'm some useless, helpless infant. I was often put on the spot for being effeminate and girly at McKinley, and I guess I just want to feel… enough, you know? God, I feel so stupid, because there's nothing wrong with being a girl. I just…"

"…want acceptance for who you are," Blaine says softly, but with a sad hint to his tone. They've talked about this before.

Nick envelopes Kurt in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you. Jeff and I call each other that all the time, and I've never thought about it that way. It's just something I say because you're hot and dear to me."

Kurt's sure his blush can heat up the entire dining hall.

"But stay away," Jeff warns him teasingly. "I'm not good at sharing."

The comment makes the table crack up in laughter, and Kurt can't help but scoot his chair closer to Nick's, and rest his chin on the boy's shoulder.

"But he's so cuuute," he pouts, and Nick fans himself with the Christmas decorated napkin the kitchen staff has provided especially for their last day in school.

"I knooow, Jeff responds. "Find your own cutie, though," he says, shoving Blaine towards Kurt.

Blaine quickly gains his composure back, and apologizes to Kurt, while hitting Jeff in the back of his head.

When they leave the dining hall, David holds Kurt back, wanting to talk with him for a moment.

"I just wanted to thank you for sharing with us. We obviously know you had a rough time at McKinley, but no details, and we really appreciate you trusting us enough to opening up on those issues. I can promise you, nobody will call you that again."

Kurt blushes, wringing his hands awkwardly.

"I shouldn't have made such a number out of it," he says, trying to play it off cool.

"It obviously is a big deal for you, and then it's important for us too. Capisce?"

Kurt gives him that smile where his lips quirks up on one side only.

"Comprende," he smirks, rolling the R.

"Do you have any plans for New Year's Eve yet?"

"Are you asking me out, David?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, sweet cheeks, but my heart belongs to Sharon. I was wondering, though, if you'd like to come to my party and meet the new year with us?"

"I'd love to, David!" Kurt beams. "Who are 'us'?"

"The Warblers and The Passerines. And I thought I could invite New Directions too, I wouldn't take you away from your oldest friends on a night like that."

"That's really generous of you, David, but that'll be more than 40 people, are you sure that's OK with your parents?"

"Don't worry about it, we have a spacious home," David smiles so sincerely Kurt has to believe him.

"Oh well then, OK, I'll tell them they're invited and get back to you."

"Sweet," David pats his shoulder, and they walk off to their first class.

* * *

Their first lesson of the day is math, and Mrs. Adams catches Kurt completely off guard when she announces a… test?

He frantically searches out Blaine's eyes, to check if this is really happening. A surprise math test, the week after their exam, on the last day before a long awaited Christmas? And why is he getting the impression Blaine is avoiding him at he moment? He turns towards Nick instead, but he's too busy Eskimo kissing his boyfriend, and what's up with that? They hardly indulge to any kind of PDA after the teacher has entered the room. Finally he looks at Wes and David, but the boys are actually thumb wrestling, and what's up with that? What the hell is going on?

Kurt sighs, and takes a look at the paper landing on his desk. He turns it slightly to have it in the right angle for his writing, before he starts reading the first question.

_1) How many gifts did my true love give to me during Christmas?_

Kurt groans. He knows there's a formula to solve this kind of question, but he just can't remember it right now. Does he have time to do the head count in stead? There are only 12 questions, so he takes the chance. After a couple of minutes, he can answer _364_.

_2) If the geese lay two eggs each, how many eggs would you have by next Christmas?_

OK, so the geese were given on the sixth day of Christmas, so from December 31st to December 25th are 360 days, right? That times six geese times two eggs are… an awful amount of omelette and pancake batter. He dutifully notes down _4320_ on the sheet.

_3) If one drum produces 107 dB, how loud would 12 drummers drumming be?_

Kurt smiles, that's an easy calculation to make.

_4) How many chickens can you count before they're hatched?_

Huh. That has to be a trick question? Either the answer is nobody or everybody, and Kurt goes with the first, dabbing down a neat _0_ on his paper.

_5) How long is a wild goose chase?_

Kurt looks around the classroom to see how the others react to this test. They all sit bent over their paper, though, and Kurt silently panics, wondering if there's some Dalton knowledge he's missing out on to answer this question. He decides to have a look on the next question instead.

_6) How many songs does a swan sing?_

Kurt's forehead furrows, but he dotes his answer – after all, you can only have one swan song.

_7) Would you kill the goose that lays the golden egg?_

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

8) What did the calling birds tell me?

Kurt can't help himself:

_The rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated._

_9) What kind of bird would you like to take you under its wings?_

Kurt snickers as he answers _a warbler_.

_10) Do your prefer turtle dove or turtle love?_

Kurt narrows his eyes and squints at his math teacher. What is going on in that mind of hers? That's just… grose… At least it is, until Kurt remembers an evening with some random googling, and he'd found some beautiful jewellery.

_I'd like to think my turtle dove would buy me something from Turtle Love co._

_11) Can a partridge also sit in other kinds of trees?_

_No, a partridge can only sit in one tree at the time._

_12) What would you want your true love to give you for Christmas?_

Kurt can't help but look over at Blaine while he carefully writes down the answer.

_His heart…_

As Kurt and the rest of the room hand in their papers to Mrs. Adams on their way out, she wishes them a merry Christmas with a big smile on her face.

Kurt's friends are waiting for him in the hallway, each of them covered in shit eating grins.

"You knew about this all the time, didn't you?" Kurt firmly scolds them.

They all laugh friendly at him, Wes even patting his back.

"We have our traditions at Dalton…" Blaine says airily, the tip of his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth. Which Kurt isn't looking at. At all.

"And you didn't think about warning a guy? Do you know how much I freaked out when she told about the test? I actually did the math equations, worrying about my grades and all the formulas I couldn't remember!"

"Nah, we decided this would be a lot more fun. And we did notice your little freak out back there, thank you very much, Jeff actually wondered if you'd start yelling at Mrs. Adams," Nick grins.

"I would have at McKinley," Kurt nods eagerly. "But here…"

"We aren't uptight all the time, even Dalton knows how to have some fun," Wes winks.

"I hate you guys…" Kurt mutters as Blaine wraps his arm around his shoulders and leads them all to their next class.

"Aww, and we hate you too," Blaine coos, bumping his hip against Kurt's.

* * *

In history, their teacher starts their lesson with "once upon a time", and read Christmas stories for them the entire lessons.

In geography, they get paper and crayons, and are assigned to draw the flag for the North Pole.

In French, they listen to Christmas carols – in French, of course.

The rest of the school day continues in these manners, with various Christmas themes. Even for lunch, the kitchen staff has whipped together a delicious Christmas lunch, and their lunch break lasts for two hours, double the usual time.

Their last lesson is English literature, and Kurt doesn't panic when the teacher hands out a quiz. Every single question is about _The Grinch_, and Kurt suddenly understands why they'd watched that movie last week. This must be an annual tradition.

Then there's not much more to do, than pack their bags and go their separate ways for the Christmas break. It's almost four weeks before they will be back at Dalton, and it will be truly strange, but at the same time Kurt can't wait to spend quality time with his family and friends.

Kurt sneaks into Nick's room to tuck away his gift from Secret Santa in the boy's suitcase, and drops by Jeff's room to find both of them and hug goodbye. He passes Wes and David in the hallways on his way back to his room, and bids them his season greetings as well.

"See you on New Year's Eve?" David reminds him, and Kurt promises to do his best to be there.

In his room, he double checks to see he's packed his laptop, iPod, chargers, toiletries, and the clothes he thinks he'll need. A lot of his clothes are still back home in Lima, but some things are irreplaceable.

"Are you all set to leave?"

Kurt zips up his laptop bag while looking up at Blaine.

"That I am."

"Do you think you have room for this too?" his friend asks, presenting a wrapped Christmas gift for him.

"I might be able to squeeze it in," he smiles innocently. He's still like a child when it comes to gifts. "And I have this for you," he says, pulling out something from his wardrobe.

"Thank you, Kurt, I'm sure I'll love it!" he says, and happily hugs him. "Let me help you to your car."

"Oh, you don't have to, I can come back and pick up the rest."

"Nonsense, I'll help you." Blaine fixes him with a steady gaze, and Kurt decides there's no use protesting.

Together they get the two suitcases, the bag with Christmas gifts Kurt's bought, the laptop bag, Kurt's messenger bag and Kurt himself to the Navigator.

"I know we'll talk during the break, but I want to say this personally. Merry Christmas, Kurt," Blaine says tenderly, and embraces the boy warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine," he whispers in the boy's ear.

The drive back to Lima and Friday night dinner is eventless. A part of Kurt is looking forward to Christmas, but a part of him already misses Blaine.


	27. Christmas Break

**AN: I don't know why I keep naming my chapters with something beginning with a C. I promise, it's entirely arbitrary.**

**Oh well, thank you to everyone's who been reading, favouriting, following and reviewing ths story - and please forgive my delay! My computer broke down with this chapter half written, soI had to get a new computer, restore a back up, and get into the mojo of writing this piece again.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

* * *

There's a lazy, laidback atmosphere in the Hudmel household this Saturday. Burt's finished preparing their cars for the winter, and is relaxing by the kitchen table with the crossword in today's paper and a program on the radio about some vintage car exhibition in Chicago. For once, Finn hasn't got any plans with neither Puck nor Quinn, and is lounging on the floor in front of the fire place in the living room. He has a magazine in his hands, but Kurt suspects he may be dozing off so close to the heat. Carole is knitting mittens. Kurt himself is splayed in a big, worn out recliner, his legs dangling over the armrest, and re-reading an old Vogue.

"How did your exams go?" Carole asks. "You had two quite rough weeks, didn't you?"

Kurt lowers the magazine.

"The academics are harder at Dalton, and I still feel I'm a bit behind the other students, but I did fairly decent. I got most of my grades at once, after the oral examinations."

"Oh, that's right; of course you couldn't do the written exams until the cast was removed," Carole smiles. "And you handed in the last paper yesterday?"

"I handed in two papers, actually, so I feel completely drained today. Next semester will be easier, I think," Kurt hurriedly adds.

He doesn't want to give off the impression things are too hard at school, in case his dad get some funny ideas about taking him out of Dalton. He wants them to know and understand how much he thrives there, how much he needs to be at Dalton.

"Do you know what I'm thinking?"

Kurt shakes his head curiously.

"I think you deserve a reward," she grins and gets up from the couch. Kurt moves to follow her, but she just smiles and tells him to stay.

Kurt sinks further down in the chair, and continues to read the story he was interrupted from. He can hear some muffled sounds and movement from the kitchen, but it's Finn that reacts.

"Mom!" he shouts, "are you making snacks?"

Two moments later, Carole quickly comes back to leave a plate with cookies on the table for her son.

"There's milk in the fridge if you want," she adds, and rushes back to the kitchen.

Kurt watches with amusement, it's not like Carole to give in to Finn's constant nagging for more food. This is indeed a carefree and stressless weekend.

The next time Carole comes back, it's with two bowls, one a little smaller than the other.

"Oh, dip!" Finn exclaims, and Carole playfully swats his grabby hands off of the green mousse.

"Honey, I thought we could indulge ourselves to facial masks and a little home spa," she smiles at Kurt, and he instantly straightens up from the chair.

"I found a recipe for an avocado mask in one of your magazines I'd like to try. It seemed so easy, but the results were highly praised," she further explains.

"I'm in," Kurt beams. "What's in the other bowl?" he asks as he removes the sweater he's wearing. He won't risk getting green stains on it.

"Oh, just some slices of cucumber for our eyes."

Kurt praises Carole for her initiative, and darts off to the bathroom to get wet wipes to clean off their hands after applying the masks, and two cosmetic headbands to hold their hair away from their faces.

After carefully and diligently applying the avocado mixture, Carole and Kurt lay down to let it do its magic for the next twenty minutes. Burt's radio program has finished, and he puts on a Christmas CD for them. Finn and he spend the next quarter of an hour teasing their loved ones, trying to make them literally crack and move their facial expressions.

"You know, this doesn't taste too bad," Finn decides, scooping some more avocado mix on a slice of cucumber. "It could do with some nachos and melted cheese, though."

Kurt inwardly rolls his eyes. Then his phone chimes, _Teenage Dream_ drowning out _Silent Night_ from the CD-player.

"Don't worry, I've got it," Finn offers as Kurt is about to retrieve his phone from the coffee table, groping blindly for it behind his cucumber.

"Hey dude, what's up?" he greets. "Nope, you're right, this isn't Kurt, it's Finn."

Kurt makes grabby movements with his hand, but Finn ignores him.

"Nah, he's busy playing with a cucumber," Finn explains, and gets up from the floor. "You won't believe what he's doing!" he exclaims as he leaves the room with Kurt's phone, and Kurt groans. He resigns to the fact that Finn is much taller, and has probably already spilled everything embarrassing he could possibly say to Blaine. Burt is laughing, and Kurt flails his arms in annoyance, huffs and then stays still as the cucumbers threaten to drop.

He patiently waits for Finn to come back with his phone, and tries to focus on the soft music coming from the CD instead of worrying about what Finn might say.

"Sweety, time is up, we can get this off now," Carole eventually says.

They remove the cucumber, and walk carefully to the bathroom to wash their faces.

"Do you know what I'm thinking about now?" Kurt asks when the last of the green gooey disappears down the sink and drain.

Carole looks questioningly at him in the mirror, still getting rid of the last of her mask.

"Manicures!" Kurt grins

Carole nods eagerly, so Kurt heads for his room to get the equipment.

Kurt's just gotten settled in the couch, legs crisscrossed, faced towards Carole to let her take care of his fingernails, when Finn comes bolting in to the living room.

"Don't be insane, the Buckeyes have this so covered," he grins into the phone he's clutched to his ear.

"I hear you; we'll just have to see what happens," he continues, and winks at Burt who somehow seems to understand what the conversation is all about.

"OK, dude, talk to you later, bye," he says and finally gives Kurt his phone back. Kurt quickly takes it, only to see the conversation has been disconnected.

"Who were you talking to?" Kurt asks curiously, wondering if maybe Tina or Mercedes called him after Blaine did, and let the guys talk to Finn instead.

"Blaine," Finn says nonchalantly, and drops down on a pile of pillows in front of the still roaring fire place.

"You talked with Blaine all that time? But, he called like twenty minutes ago. I didn't know you're friends," Kurt enquires puzzled.

"Blaine's cool," Finn shrugs. "He wanted the recipe for the veggie stuff you're using, but otherwise we have things in common."

Kurt just glares at his bigger younger sort-of-brother.

"When have the two of you had any time to bond?"

Finn looks confused at Kurt.

"What do you mean? I've met him heaps of times."

Kurt's confuzzled look makes him elaborate.

"It's not like we in Glee didn't speak to him whenever he came to see you at McKinley. And someone had to keep him entertained whenever he had to wait here for you to get ready for your dates. Then there was the party at Dalton. And Sectionals. And we've spoken on the phone a couple of times."

Kurt shakes his head, hoping it'll sort out all the thoughts being dumped into his brain. Imagining Blaine and Finn as buddies is a bit mindnumbing.

"First of all, we're not dating, we're best friends. Like you and Puck are," Kurt explains, locking eyes with Finn to make sure he understands.

"Nuhu," Finn grins wickedly. "You and Blaine are nothing like me and Puck!"

"OK, like you and Mike, then, or you and Artie, or whoever of the boys you hang out with and aren't dating," Kurt says pointedly, and he tries to ignore the amused giggles from Carole who's patiently filing his nails.

"Secondly, why do you need to speak to Blaine on the phone?"

Finn looks caught red handed, guilt illuminating his facial expression. He blinks rapidly, bending his neck to work out a tense knot.

"Umm… To get suggestions for your Christmas present?" Finn offers as explanation.

He's a terrible liar, but Kurt lets it be. Instead, he offers Carole the tiny bottle with transparent nail polish. It'll add vitamins and make his nails stronger. Carole has found a deep green colour she wants to wear, for the sake of Christmas spirit.

* * *

"Hey dad?"

Burt is sitting in the couch with the sports section of the Sunday paper when Kurt approaches him. He lowers the papers and looks sternly at his son.

"What do you want?" he asks, partly amused and partly fondly.

"How do you know I want something?" Kurt squeals surprised.

"Because you have the same look on your face when you approach me in the garage and offer to work some extra hours, because there's a pair of pants you've set your eyes on. That's why."

"Oh…"

Kurt stops in the middle of the living room, wringing his clasped hands in front of him.

"Sit down, you know I don't bite," Burt encourages, and pats the seat next to him.

Kurt sits down across the seat, criss-crossing his legs and watching as his father turns more towards him as well.

"I wanted to say thank you for sending me to Dalton. I love being there, I've gotten several friends, and…"

Burt gives him the _get to the point, kid_-look, so Kurt continues.

"David invited me to celebrate New Year's Eve, and I really want to go," he hurries out breathlessly.

Burt looks at him for a minute, and it's impossible to read his expression.

"Have I met David?"

"Yes, at Sectionals, remember? He's in the Warblers' Council."

Burt nods slightly, but face remains stoic.

"And he doesn't live in Lima, I suppose?"

"No…" Kurt swallows. "His family lives in Columbus."

"That's quite a bit to drive back home in the night, son. Almost two hours, with God knows what kind of weather."

"He offered me to stay the night, I think several of them are sleeping over. And I thought maybe we could go by train, if that'd make you worry less."

His dad finally smiles at him.

"You've really thought this true, haven't you?"

"I really want to go," Kurt whispers, but maintaining eye contact with his father.

"Who else will be there?"

"His parents," Kurt answers, because he knows that's what his father is really asking. "David's invited the Warblers. His girlfriend Sharon and her Glee club will be there. And he told me I could bring New Directions."

His father looks surprised.

"He told you to bring your friends?"

"Yeah, he thought I'd want to celebrate New Year's with them too, and didn't want to make me choose between my old friends and new friends," Kurt shrugs, but inwardly he's blown away by David's generous offer. "They've all met before, at the welcome-party they threw me, so I know they get along and like each other."

"So all of you will be going by train and spending the night?" Burt seems troubled.

"That's an option, yes."

"Tell me. How big of a house do his parents have?"

Kurt shrugs.

"He said it's spacious."

"I think I'll have to talk with his parents before anything, son."

"I understand, dad. Thank you," Kurt smiles fondly, and hugs his father.

"I haven't promised anything but talk with David's parents," Burt warns him.

"I know. But you could have said no immediately," Kurt grins, deciding to look at the glass as half full.

* * *

Kurt hasn't been home for long, when Mercedes shows up on his door.

"Hey boo, consider yourself kidnapped," she winks.

"OK," Kurt shrugs. "Do I need to pack anything?"

Mercedes shakes her head, as she shouts through the door.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm borrowing your son for the night!"

Burt joins the other Hummel in the doorway.

"May I ask what your intentions with my son are?" he asks sternly, but there's a humorous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, just some light torture to get the latest updates on his life," Mercedes answers slyly, making Kurt's father laugh.

"Seems fair enough. Have him home before dinner tomorrow, OK?"

She agrees, and drags Kurt by the hand to her car.

"Where are we going?" he asks once he's tucked in the seat, safe behind the belt.

"Boy, you haven't been kidnapped a lot if you don't know you don't have rights or will get any answers until I want to give them," she scolds, and turns up the volume of the car stereo. "Now, sing with me!" she commands.

Mercedes takes him to Rachel's house, where also Tina is waiting. They gather in the Berry's basement, with Rachel under firm oath she won't turn this into a karaoke night. They update him on the latest drama and relationship statuses in New Directions, as difficult that is with some people involved in the drama present. Lauren and Puck would probably tick it off as "it's complicated" on Facebook, with Puck desperately pursuing her, and Lauren playing a mixture of frightening and coy. Mike and Tina are more solid than ever, Quinn and Finn are doing well, but they don't talk much about that because of Rachel. Kurt thinks he knows more than they do anyway, as Finn has been surprisingly open and talkative after Kurt came back home, and they spent last night in his room with two mugs of hot milk and a nice chat.

Santana and Brittany aren't seeing anyone officially, but aren't hiding that they share their "lady kisses", and usually they sit in the Glee room holding pinkies. Nobody ever asks, and the two girls don't say anything either. Mercedes says no boys in McKinley are good enough for her, but something in her eyes makes Kurt decide to prod that question stronger later.

"How about you, Kurt?" Tina asks. "Any boys good enough for you at Dalton?"

Kurt rolls his eyes, because he knows very well that she's talking about Blaine.

"Yeah, Kurt, you gotta tell us about the Ball," Mercedes insists.

So Kurt gives them the highlights from the Ball. He tells them about his outfit and the limousine, but he doesn't mention the boutonnières Blaine had gotten them. It seems too private, like something sacred between the two of them. But he tells them about the food, the Passerines, the performance the Warblers did – and at that stage Rachel demands a step-by-step or a note-by-note rendition of how his duet with Blaine had went. What key had they sung in, had they been faithful to tradition or made modernized alterations, had they been flat at any moment, and how had the nerves been?

"Rachel, you're so transparent. You're just digging for info, in case we'll face each other for Regionals," Kurt scolds, rolling his eyes.

"It has never hurt to be well prepared," she huffs.

"I'm pretty sure I can promise you that the Warblers will not perform _Baby It's Cold Outside _for Regionals," Kurt grins, loving to tease Rachel that way.

"Back to Blaine," Mercedes demands, forcing the conversation back on track.

"Did you dance together?" Tina asks excitedly.

Kurt nods with a shit eating grin on his face, because dancing with Blaine is always a high. To be hold and lead by his strong arms, to touch him, to lead and spin him around on the floor, to make each other laugh, to see his face and pretty eyes so close…

Kurt keeps private how the night ended, how Blaine had struggled. It's his story, not Kurt's to tell. So he explains how Blaine had walked him to the door, and ends the night there.

"It seems like such a perfect date," Tina sights dreamily.

"Except nobody involved acknowledged it as a date," Kurt snorts.

"Maybe you don't have to spell everything out, maybe you have an instant connection that goes beyond words?" Rachel suggests. "Maybe you're meant to be since the beginning of history, and your relationship is inevitable?"

Mercedes glares at Rachel.

"Girl, are you high on something?"

"But don't you see what I mean? What if they are destined to be, what if they're soul mates, what if this is an epic love story with the best happy ending ever?" she gushes.

"If it is, it would be nice if someone could make Blaine and me aware of it," Kurt snorts. "Because I see no epic proportions to my love life at the moment."

"Well, I for one see your love story as one worthy of Broadway."

"Then I'm Éponine who didn't get Marius or Glinda who didn't get Fiyero," Kurt deadpans.

At that moment, Kurt's phone alerts them of an incoming message. He can't help the soft smile that takes over his face when he sees who it's from.

"I'd bet anything that text is from Blaine," Mercedes giggles.

"What does he say?" Tina giddily asks.

"Nothing important," Kurt shrugs. "He just wonders how I am, if I'm doing anything fun."

"So he just randomly texts to check on you?" Mercedes slowly asks.

"I guess you could see it that way," Kurt half shrugs.

"Yeah, that boy doesn't like you at all, that would be the only logical interpretation," Tina scoffs.

* * *

Two days later, Burt asks Kurt to join him by the kitchen table.

"I'll get straight to the point, kid, don't think I haven't noticed how you've been almost bursting with curiosity."

Burt laughs, and Kurt can't help but chuckle at his own eagerness, although he holds back, not knowing what his dad will tell him.

"I've spoken to David's parents, and they seem like nice enough people. They confirmed what you said, but goodness be with them for opening their home to 40 teenagers, I wonder if they know what they've done."

Kurt taps his foot impatiently on the floor.

"The point, dad?" he says sternly, fixing his eyes on his dad.

"Okey, okey, okey," he laughs, raising his arms in the air. "You may go to the party, and Carole agrees to let Finn go too. But keep your phone on you all the time, and be responsible, you hear me?"

Kurt knows he looks dumbstruck. His dad sighs.

"I'm not gonna pretend I don't think there will be alcohol at the party, even if David's parents are somewhere in the house. And I won't want you to drink. But I know I can't control you from here. So, you know, be careful and responsible. You're 17, I try to remember you're not always going to be my little boy."

Kurt gets up from his chair to hug his father.

"I'll always be your boy," he whispers choked in his father's neck. Burt pats his back.

"I hope so, buddy. Now, go, I know your itching to call your friends about the party."

Kurt laughs, and runs off to his room. He has 12 friends to coordinate. The first text goes to Blaine, though, confirming he'll be at the party. In afterthought, he texts the host too, accepting the invitation.

* * *

It's right after noon and the rush hour lunch time usually provides, so luckily the mall isn't too crowded. Finn had more or less begged Kurt to help him with his Christmas shopping, and who was Kurt to refuse such a possibility?

"Who are you shopping for?"

"I have to get something really nice for Quinn," he says hesitantly. "I don't want to screw that one up. I also need to find something for mom and Burt, but I think they have everything they need."

"What kind of gift do you want to give Quinn?"

"A good one," he says quickly.

"Gee, really, Finn?" Kurt teases. "Are you thinking about jewellery, perfume, clothes, naughty underwear, something symbolizing your relationship, an adventure, a car, a boob job, gift certificates at a hair saloon, in what direction do you want to go?"

"I think I'd like to give her something in a little box," Finn smiles bashfully. "Despite everything, I really love her."

_Well, if you can forgive her for cheating, and you could work through the entire Beth-scapade, then I guess I'd call it love too_, Kurt thinks for himself as he steers his step brother in the direction of the right store.

"Quinn hardly uses any other necklaces than her golden cross, and I know coach Sylvester is against anything in the ears as it can draw attention from the actual performance, and also be a danger when building the pyramids. How about a ring?" Kurt concludes.

"No," Finn hurriedly replies. "That feels too much like an engagement or something like that, and I'm not ready for that."

"Fair enough," Kurt answers, glad to see Finn has some opinions on what he wants to give.

"How about something like this?" Finn asks, and points at a display of bracelets.

"I think that'd be perfect, actually."

Finn beams.

"You think?"

"Yes, I think she'd like a bracelet, as long as it's the right one."

Finn's shoulders slump.

"That's the challenge, isn't it?"

"We'll work it through, Finn. How would you describe Quinn?"

"She's really pretty. And strong, almost a bit frightening. But she can be like cuddly and cute when we're alone. I think she's scared about something, I think she's more vulnerable than you see in school. Oh, and she likes to be super elegant and classy, but when we're alone she can also make dirty jokes and beat me in burping contests."

Kurt can't help but stare at his brother with big eyes. He seems to have good insight in Quinn and see the girl's different layers. Kurt's embarrassed to admit he's surprised. Finn often seems like such an oblivious goofball, accepting what he sees and not looking to see what lies beneath. And yet he seems to have Quinn figured out.

"OK," Kurt says, reeling himself back to the task at hand. "I think we'd go with something simple and subtle, something that can accessorize both a gown and work out clothes. But it must still be exquisite craftwork, stylish and elegant."

They stare at the display for a long time. A salesman approaches them, but Kurt politely waves him off, stating they've got it covered.

"That one!" Finn eventually grins.

"That's the one," Kurt agrees, and Finn's grin widens even more as he high fives his brother.

"Sweet!"

They continue their search in the mall for the perfect gifts for their parents. They take a break in the food court, where Finn manages to tease Kurt into eating a chocolate frosted doughnut. Kurt texts Blaine while Finn stands in queue to buy the pastries and drinks for them.

_I never thought I'd admit this, but I'm really enjoying having Finn as a brother. We're Christmas shopping together, and actually having a great time._

_Why is that such a surprise to you? You did hand pick him, after all ;) The rest of us have to stick with what the stork randomly brought._

_Watch it, Anderson, or you'll find nothing but coal in your stocking this year._

_You're cute when you try to be menacing._

_Hell Has No Fury like a Hummel Scorned._

_Is that a challenge?_

_It's a promise._

_I guess I should play nice. 'Tis the season to be jolly, after all._

_Don we now our gay apparel?_

_Are we buying Christmas gifts for ourselves as well now?_

_I may have found an irresistible shirt…_

_Can't wait to see it! You're admirably apparel savvy._

* * *

The next days are spent as a family, preparing for their first Christmas together. One evening, they all sat down with mugs with hot chocolate, to tell each other about Christmas traditions, expectations, priorities and wishes. Together, they tried to make compromises and meet halfway to make sure everyone could have a good Christmas. They expected it to be sentimental and different, but all four of them were eager and intent to make it work. The two newly joined families already had a lot of common or similar traditions, and they all wanted to create new traditions as well. Something they did for the first time this year, and would want to do for future Christmases as well, something that was truly _theirs_, the Hudmel-Christmas style.

That's how Kurt finds himself in the backseat of his Navigator. His car was the sturdiest, while it could also room all four family members and what they were on their way to pick up. They were all dressed in warm clothes and solid boots, and Burt had placed his axe in the trunk of the car. They've been driving for about half an hour, and are currently on a narrow road winding itself around and around a hill, seemingly bringing them closer and closer to the top.

In the middle of a sharp turn, there's a modest parking lot on the left side of the road. Burt exits the road, and stops the car in the almost empty space.

"This is almost our destination, but we need horse power to reach our goal," Burt smiles eagerly, and Kurt just knows he has something up his sleeve.

The Hudmel's get out of the car, Burt remembering to bring the axe, and they walk down a narrow path that goes along a big, snow clad field. It takes them perhaps two minutes to go across. By the end of the field there's… nothing, just a cul de sac and a wide path that seems to go forever.

"What's going on?" Finn asks curiously.

"We have to wait here for our next ride," Burt beams.

Not long after, the sound of bells makes Kurt squint down the path.

"Oh my Gods…" he mutters…

"Wow…" Finn exhales.

"Oh Burt, you're such a romantic sweetheart," Carole beams, and kisses her husband on the cheek.

A midnight black horse is trotting towards them. A leather harness with bells on is attached to a big sleigh, where a girl with a red knitted cap is sitting in the… driver's seat? Kurt doesn't know the proper terms for horse stuff.

The girl makes the horse turn in the cul de sac, before she greets the family.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Dale farm. I'm Penny, and I'll take you to the main area. Please come onboard," she invites them, and steps off to hold the horse steady while the Hudmel's take their seats.

"Nice to meet you, Penny," Burt smiles, offering the young woman his hand. "I'm Burt, and this is my family: My wife Carole, and our sons Kurt and Finn," he introduces, looking proudly at the three people he loves the most in this world.

They all greet and introduce themselves to Penny, and get seated. They sit on sheepskins, and there are a pile of thick wool blankets by their feet to drape over their legs if they get cold.

"This is a surreal winter wonderland fairytale," Kurt gasps as the sledge jerks off when the horse starts trotting off.

The snow covered trees along the path whooshes by, and Kurt is half expecting to see Bambi peak out through the stems. Carole is sitting next to Burt, her head resting on his shoulder, and their hands holding tight. Finn and Kurt are sitting in a seat across of them. Kurt picks up his phone from the pocket, and quickly takes a picture of his parents, with the horse in the background.

The sleigh ride takes about fifteen minutes, and they arrive at a big farm. The horse stops on the outskirts of the area, and the Hudmel's jump off. A big man walks towards them.

"Welcome to the Dale farm, I'm Howard Dale," he greets them friendly, shaking hands with all four of them. "I assume you're here to get your Christmas tree?"

Burt confirms, and Mr. Dale explains which trees they can choose from and not.

"I see you've brought an axe, that's great. Just let me know when you've chopped down your bush, and I'll come helping you get it out of there."

Burt thanks the farmer profoundly for his help so far, and they walk along one of the paths into the woods. They've already established that they want a big tree that will reach almost to the ceiling, and they want it to be wide with loads of branches, so they can fill it will all kinds of decorations. And Finn had requested enough space towards the ground – or the floor – for all the presents.

They chat happily with each other, discussing various trees, drizzling off the snow on a couple of potential prospects to better see how they look, and bicker just like families do about which tree to choose.

Finally they manage to settle for a tree that meet all their criteria and also actually is for sale. Burt starts chopping, while Finn jogs back to Howard Dale as promised. Kurt hovers around Burt, afraid he'll strain his heart with the unfamiliar exercise.

Mr. Dale comes with some sort of plastic net he wraps around the tree, making it easier to carry with all the branches locked close to the stem. They walk together back to the farm. A couple of families have arrived in the meantime, and kids are running around happily, greeting some sheep munching on some grass sticking up from the snow, and admiring the three horses in front of the sleighs.

A big bonfire with wooden benches around looks inviting, and the Hudmel's decide to sit down for a while.

"Would you like some coffee or hot chocolate?" Mr. Dale offers, pointing at two pots hanging on a stand over the fire.

The family happily accepts. Finn wants hot chocolate, while the other three accepts the coffee – even Kurt, although he usually drinks mochas or lattes. They warm their cold hands around the hot mugs, sharing Christmas memories, enjoying the crackles from the burning wood and the snow in the air.

It's not too late, but it's slowly getting darker around them.

"Should we head back home?" Burt suggests, and they all readily agree.

Mr. Dale straps their tree to one of the sleighs, and Burt gives Carole a hand to help her to her seat. He tucks the wool blanket over her lap, before joining in the sleigh. Finn and Kurt quickly jump after, and Mr. Dale offers them two torches. It's not dark enough to really need them, but the sentiment is still quite idyllic, so who are they to refuse?

Later that evening, Blaine calls Kurt, and gets his ears filled with Christmas tree chopping-gushing. He laughs tenderly at Kurt's enthusiasm, and then tells about his family's season preparations so far.

* * *

The next days are filled with cheerful smiles, some stress, meticulously planned out lists, a couple of visits to the grocery store with Carole, a nice heart to heart with Burt, Christmas movies in the evening with the entire family, a night of video games with Finn and the guys, a sleep over of movies, Christmas candy and hair styling with all the girls, absentminded whistling on Christmas carols, endless texting with Blaine, and even some time spent with all of the New Direction and their sledges in the nearby perfectly snow covered steep slope.

The entire family has fun spending time together to make Christmas cookies and decorate their home and self-chopped tree.

The day before Christmas, Kurt spends some time alone in his room to wrap all the presents in beautiful paper and glimmering ribbons. His Christmas playlist on his iPod is keeping him company. He's in the middle of wrapping in Carole's gift, when _Baby It's Cold Outside_ plays. Kurt can't help the silly grin on his face, and he giggles as he thinks about the Christmas Ball, the duet with Blaine, and other cherished memories from that night.

* * *

Christmas Day morning Kurt wakes up with someone else in his bed. Or rather, he wakes up when that someone takes a dive and lands in his bed.

"Merry Christmaaaaas!" the voice shouts as he almost lands on top of Kurt.

"Finn, what the hell are you doing?" Kurt yells, and tries to roll away, but he's trapped in the covers Finn is lying on.

"It's Christmas, you have to get up," he says innocently, and Kurt actually believes Finn is being sincere with him.

"Ugh, it's a quarter to freakin' early," Kurt mutters.

"Come on!" Finn whines. "I wanna see if Santa's been here, and mom's started cooking breakfast."

Kurt sighs. Is this how the Hudson's always celebrate the holiday? By beating the rooster to the alarm clock?

"Besides, there was this car with a delivery to you half an hour ago."

Now that peaks Kurt's interest.

"Give me ten minutes, and I'll be downstairs."

"Sweet!" Finn beams, and scurries off of Kurt's bed.

Eight minutes later Kurt joins his family in the living room. They're all wearing pyjamas and morning robes. Finn and Kurt's father are gathered in front of the fire place.

"Come see if you've been a good boy and got your stocking filled!" Finn beams.

"You're such a boy," Kurt chuckles.

"Well, duh!"

Carole comes from the kitchen, and hands Kurt a mug of hot chocolate and mini marshmallows.

"Come join us in the couch, honey, Finn is so eager to get to his gifts, and I don't know if I can make him wait for much longer."

Kurt grins, but does as she says.

"Can we start now, mom?"

"We can, darling. Why don't you do the honour?"

Finn jumps up from the couch, and brings down the stockings from the mantelpiece, handing them out to each family member.

The boys' stockings are filled with candy and funny knick-knacks from the dollar store. All three men get new ties with a fat Santa on, and if you pinch his nose he sings _We Wish You A Merry Christmas_ in that electronic slightly out of tune sound. Finn puts his on immediately. Kurt looks at it with distaste, shrugs, and tucks it around his neck, adjusting the collar of his pyjamas shirt.

"Have you been a good boy, Kurt?" Burt asks.

Kurt looks at the tie once more.

"I'm not sure," he grins.

Finn looks longingly at the gifts under the tree, so they decide to open them first, even though breakfast is ready. This is a day for fun and relaxation; surely they can do whatever they want, in whatever order they want.

Burt and Carole are thrilled by the gifts Finn and Kurt have gotten them, and thank them profoundly. Finn is ecstatic about the Buckeyes-gear Kurt got him, and Kurt can't believe Finn's given him a generous gift certificate to _Between the Sheets_. He can't wait to explore the store for some great music. From Carole and Burt, Kurt gets the Alexander McQueen Black Joust High Top shoes he's been dreaming about for months. There's also another gift from Santa Claus to Kurt. Curiously he opens it, but yelps when he sees the Emporio Armani underwear.

"Oh my God, you bought me underwear?" he shrieks, feeling his face evaporate to flames.

"No, no, this is a gift from Santa Claus," Carole winks. "But I'm sure he thought you'd like to wear fashion even if it has to be under your Dalton uniform," she grins.

"This is highly embarrassing. My step mother is not supposed to buy me my underwear," he groans.

"Carole buys me mine," Burt chuckles.

"Not helping, dad, not helping!" Kurt whimpers, and tucks the underwear away.

"But did you like them?" Carole asks softly.

"They're fabulous," Kurt admits, wondering how crimson he can turn without permanent damage.

In the meantime, Finn's been opening a gift, and he's less than obvious when he hurriedly tucks it away.

"Who was that from?" Carole asks innocently.

"Uh, nobody?"

"Quinn!" Kurt and Carole grin simultaneously.

"Yeah, well, here are your gift from _Blaine_," Finn teases.

"I'm sure I won't be embarrassed to show my family what he's gotten me."

"Why do you give each other gifts anyway, if you're not dating?"

"Because we're good friends who want to do something nice for each other?"

"Huh. Does that mean I should have gotten something for Puck?"

Kurt ignores Finn in favour of opening the gift. He's curious about what the boy's gotten for him.

A big smile is tattooed to his face when he peels off the paper. It's a deep purple leather sketch book, with _Kurt Hummel Originals_ engraved on the front cover with calligraphic letters. The paper is thick and perfect to draw on, for instance with the set of pencils he also got. Inside the cover of the book, Blaine's glued a picture of Kurt from the Christmas Ball, and under it is written in what he recognizes as Blaine's handwriting _The first of many Kurt Hummel originals making heads turn_.

Kurt tucks the gift to his chest, sighing in contentment.

"Care to share, bro?" Finn teases.

"Of course," he says haughtily, and shows his family the beautiful sketch book and the drawing utensils.

"Who's the last gift for?" Carole asks, looking at the big, flat, wrapped square under the tree.

"It came on the door this morning, it's for Kurt," Burt says, eyebrows raised as if he's expecting him to explain who it's from.

"'To Kurt from Secret Santa'," Finn reads. "Who's a Secret Santa?"

"I suspect it's from someone at Dalton," Kurt says, and explains about the Warblers' Secret Santa-arrangement.

"Dude, that's so cool. Why don't we do things like that in New Directions?"

Kurt simply laughs as he carefully peels off the paper, trying to avoid tearing it. He unfolds the paper, and gasps.

"What is it, bud?"

Kurt holds up an extensive photomontage in a beautiful frame. Almost 20 pictures are meticulously put together.

"Do you mind telling us about the pictures?" Carole asks.

"Not at all," Kurt beams, and they all gather in and around the couch to get a better view.

Kurt points at the various pictures, and tells the story behind. There's the picture of him, Blaine, Nick and Jeff at the Italian place where they ate before Sectionals. Somehow his Secret Santa also manages to get a picture of Kurt during his solo, even though all the Warblers were on stage. There's also a picture of Kurt and Blaine during their duet at the Ball.

"You both look very handsome there, honey," Carole gushes.

Kurt blushes, but continues to show and tell. One picture shows him in a pile of boys at a movie night gone astray; he recognizes at least Jeff, Trent and Thad. A nice group picture of the Warblers is in the centre. Finn and Kurt dancing with each other at the welcome-party makes Carole beam and hug both her boys. In another picture Wes is holding his gavel, and Kurt can happily tell Finn that Wes still hasn't found it. All the pictures are taken at Dalton or of Warblers in other places, and Kurt can't wait to put it up in his room at Dalton; a manifestation of some of his memories so far.


	28. New Years Eve

**AN: What can I say? Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback on last chapter. I aim to answer each and every reviewer personally, when possible, and appreciate any comment, feedback, question and suggestion coming in my direction.**

**Since last update, I got inspired and wrote my first one-shot, called DST. I got a scene in my head that wouldn't fit with neither this nor my other long WIP, so I decided to just write it and share it with you guys.  
**

**So, let's party like it's 1999, before Dalton calls the boys again!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but maybe Santa will bring it to me this year?**

* * *

In true New Direction-spirit, everybody wanted to party the new year in, but none had yet thought about making plans or initiate the novel idea of a New Years Trainwreck Extravaganza New Direction Style. So everybody had jumped with joy when Kurt invited them to David's party in Columbus. After a couple of reassuring and comforting phone conversations between the parents in Lima and those of the hosting Warbler, they felt comfortable and safe sending the kids on the train. As with Burt, they hadn't been thrilled about the long drive, but could deal with a train ride, staying the night, and come back home on the first day of the new year by train as well.

"I can't believe we're going to spend the night with the competition," Rachel exclaims, making her team mates sigh and grunt on the platform. The train would be here any minute now.

"And I can't believe you're not able to snap out of Glee mode," Kurt parries.

"A winner is always alert," she scoffs. "Besides, it never hurts to be attentive and alert."

"You don't even know if you'll meet the Warblers next year," Kurt sighs and rolls his eyes.

"I like to be better prepared than even a girl scout can be, and I feel intimidated by this party."

"You know, if you're that worried, you really don't have to join us," Santana drawls, grinning and poking her tongue out from the corner of her mouth.

Rachel huffs.

"Somebody has to make sure you guys don't spill anything important."

Kurt takes a couple of steps out of the circle of friends, pretending to check the time table on the wall to see when the train was supposed to arrive.

"You know, I'm amazed you think it's safe for us to spend time with Kurt at all," Mercedes glares at Rachel, having observed Kurt's discomfort. "Or have you forgotten he's our friend first and foremost, and our competition way down the road?"

Rachel has the decency to shut up, and looks apologetically at Kurt, who refuses to look in her direction.

Two slender arms are wrapped around his waist from behind.

"You're my favourite unicorn, and I'm glad you're safe and happy at Hogwarts."

Kurt can't help but smile, and turns around in Brittany's arms.

"Thank you, sweetie, you saying that means a lot to me."

She folds her arms around his shoulders instead, and forces him in to a tight hug, and Santana mutters something about a crowbar as she tries to pull them apart when the train slows down approaching their platform.

Kurt, feeling fairly responsible for the entire entourage, does a quick head count, and is both relieved, surprised and amazed to see that everyone's present, in time.

They find the train compartment with facilities for wheel chairs, and follow after Artie. Sadly, there aren't enough seats for all 13 of them in that area, with only eight seats and a lot of free space for Artie's wheels.

"Come on y'all, just move on and find another compartment. I'll wait here and I'll see y'all at the partay, no stress, dudes," Artie winks, and making some gestures with his hands.

"Bullshit," Puck interjects. "We're going together, and that means we're sitting together. I don't mind sitting on the floor."

There's a murmur of agreement from all of them. Rachel and Santana sit down in a double seat, with Brittany sprawled across their laps. Lauren sits down across of them, and pats her thighs.

"There's room for you here, Puckerman," she grins.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he declines a little startled. "I don't think I'm man enough for that," he explains, and slides down to sit next to Artie on the floor.

Mike sits down next to Lauren, and pulls Tina down to his lap.

Across the aisle is another set of four seats, two and two faced against each other. Sam takes a window seat, and Mercedes nonchalantly slides down next to him. They smile bashfully at each other, and then turn their blushing faces in opposite directions. Kurt rolls his eyes, but chuckles. They're adorable, obvious and entertaining.

"Here, you can sit on my lap," Finn says behind Kurt, and Kurt takes for granted he's talking to Quinn, so he doesn't respond, but waits for them to take the window seat.

"Dude, wash your ears!" Finn says eventually, and pokes him sharply in the back.

"What?" Kurt barks, his back still feeling a bit sore from all the locker checks and "incidents" at McKinley.

"I said, you can sit on my lap," Finn explains slowly to his face, as if he thinks Kurt can't understand him. "I know you won't sit on the floor with fancy pants on."

"Umm, that's OK, I thought I could just stand," Kurt says awkwardly, not at all prepared for that kind of offer.

"Dude, that's like two hours, and you've already complained about how those boots are for strutting, and not for walking."

Kurt glares at his step brother.

"First of all, I would never describe anything I do or own as strutting. Secondly, you have to stop calling me dude. And thirdly, not everything I mutter to myself while dressing is intended for all of our friends to hear."

"Oh, sorry dude, didn't know your boots was a secret," Finn says sincerely, making the rest of them laugh loudly at him.

"What?" he exclaims, looking confused at all of them.

Kurt pats him on the cheek, maybe a bit condescendingly.

"Oh Finn, you're such a goofball."

The train jerks, making Kurt stumble into Finn's chest.

"Let's sit down," Finn suggests, and Kurt relents.

Finn takes the seat by the window, with Quinn by his side, and Kurt sits down across Finn's lap, with his legs over Quinn's, her order. Artie and Puck are pierced between the two sets of seats.

When the train conductor arrives, he's startled to see that many teenagers gathered in one compartment, and especially the rarely used compartment for disabled, but he quickly recovers. Puck explains that Artie is their homeboy, they're on their way to celebrate New Year's Eve, and there's no way they're abandoning Artie for more comfortable seats.

The conductor is so touched by the friends' support and insistence; he quickly decides to give all of them the same discount on their tickets that Artie has claim for.

"Happy New Year!" he greets them, and the sentiment is returned from all 13 of them.

"Kurt, you need to help me with my make up," Mercedes complains.

"Oh my, why? You already look fabulous, my dear," he compliments her, exaggerating his voice and gestures, and making her laugh.

"You do, you know?" Sam chimes in. "Prettier than Leia." He blushes and ducks his head, Mercedes can't stop grinning, and Kurt just looks smugly at her.

In the end, he helps her put on false eyelashes and paint her finger nails, because it is a party, after all, and she wants to look her best. Santana and Brittany help each other as an option to the lacking mirrors, with Brittany straddling the other girl. Tina is all done, and Mike is whispering something-something in her ear that makes her all giddy and giggling.

"Rachel, do you want some help too?" Kurt offers, and the girl looks startled at him.

"Would... Would you do that?"

"Of course," he scoffs, taking in her naked face and boring hairdo. She's dressed better than in a long time, with a simple black knee length dress, a knitted bolero in silver, and a hair band with what looks like firework. Of course. So close, he thinks, so close, and then she adds a finishing touch destroying it all.

Kurt sits on the table to help Rachel with her make up. She doesn't say anything for a long time, until

"I'm sorry, about earlier..." she whispers. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I love you, right?"

Kurt nods and smiles to show her everything is alright. He can't talk with the eyeliner between his teeth.

"It's just... Weird. You being there, our potential competition, and I know how ambitious and driven you are, and I know how talented you are. So I get scared of losing..."

Kurt draws with the eyeliner.

"You are right, I am competitive - almost as intense as you are," he winks. "But I'm still your friend, and when the Warblers win Regionals, it'll be because we are better than you, not because we cheated," he grins.

"Oh, it's on!" Rachel laughs. "When we win Regionals, it'll be because we've worked hard to fill the void you left, because we still have me, and you, sir, have no Rachel Berry in the Warblers."

She winks to show she's teasing, mostly, and Kurt laughs too.

"Hey, stuff your schnaz, Berry, could we have at least one night with all fun and no solo pimping?" Santana interrupts from next to them.

"Yeah," Tina agrees. "Can't we just decide we don't talk competition tonight, but focus on having a good time with old and new friends?"

A chorus of agreement settles the case.

"So, Kurt, do you need any help with the make up?" Tina offers.

Kurt thinks about it for a while. He'd used a little make up during his audition for the solo at Sectionals, and of course he has a well stocked vanity with various products. But it isn't often it is visible that he's wearing anything. He thinks nobody in the Warblers will judge him. He doesn't know about the catholic girls, though, but decides to hell with it. He always has to tone himself down at Dalton, while now he has an opportunity to let his freak flag fly and be however he wants to be.

"Work your magic," he grins smugly, knowing Tina makes perfect smokey eyes.

* * *

As promised, a maxi taxi is waiting for them when the New Directions plus Kurt arrives Columbus. Kurt had texted David when they knew which train they were on, and the boy had offered to call for a taxi for them – an accessible one, of course.

Kurt gives the taxi driver the address of the Thompson estate.

They pay no attention to their surroundings, but talk excitedly about their expectations and hopes for the party. It's not until the taxi slows down and crawls through a iron gate and down a narrow avenue lined with snow covered birches, they stop talking and watch intently out of the windows. The taxi pulls up in front of a big white brick house. And by big, they mean huge.

Finn pays the driver with the money Burt and Carole had given the step brothers to make sure they were safe, and Mike holds the back door of the car so that Artie can wheel himself out down the mobile ramp.

The 13 teenagers stand gathered in front of the main entrance, with reverent gazes.

"This is where the President lives," Brittany states.

"Why would you think so?" Kurt asks, forgetting that it's not always wise to investigate the girl's ideas.

"It's a big, white house, and David is black," the girl shrugs.

"Come on, let's party," Puck interrupts impatiently, and walks up the steps to reach the doorbell.

Not five seconds later, the door is being opened by a tall, handsome and smiling man.

"Good evening, good sire," Brittany curtsies, and Kurt is relieved she didn't call the man Mr. Obama or something in that line.

"You must all be David's friends," the man beams. "I'm Mr. Thompson. Please come in, while I'll go scold my son for his lacking hosting manners," the man grins, clearly playfully.

Before the man disappears, a woman greets them as Mrs. Thompson, and encourages them to leave their shoes, jackets and overnight bags in the walk in closet by the entrance hallway.

"I hope your train ride went well, it's really sweet of you to travel all this way for David," she smiles shyly.

"Thank you for opening your lovely home to us," Kurt responds politely. "It's generous of you to let us all stay for the night as well."

The other 12 murmur their agreements and appreciations, and Mrs. Thompson smiles at them, while offering coat hangers.

"We're glad to let David host this party. It's nice to have the house filled with cheerfulness and life, and I feel so much better knowing you are safe indoors," she admits, and David shows up at that moment.

"Yes, it is a good thing we can be here, otherwise we might be raving around the streets stupidly drunk, high on E and sleeping with random people."

Kurt has to blink a couple of times. Well, goodbye Dalton David, and hello homey David.

"Yes, that would be so typical of you," Mr. Thompson chimes in from behind him, making the family laugh, and some of the New Direction-members join in with a somewhat awkward laughter.

"Mother, father, I want you to meet Kurt Hummel, who transferred to Dalton earlier this year."

Hands are shaken and pleasantries exchanged.

"You had one of the solos during Sectionals, didn't you?" Mr. Thompson asks, and Kurt nods quickly. "That was quite the performance. Well done, and good luck at Regionals," he smiles, and Kurt expresses his heartfelt gratitude.

David's parents are quickly introduced to the rest of the Lima bunch as well, although Kurt suspects they will have forgotten most of the names within five minutes.

"The party is down in the basement, if you'd care to follow me," David finally says, shooing his parents away to their own whereabouts. "I'm sorry, I didn't think about accessibility," he says apologetically, looking at Artie.

"It's cool, it happens a lot," Artie shrugs. "My mates will help me," he continues, and Sam and Puck crack their fists, getting ready to lift him in the wheelchair down the stairs.

David leads the way, and although they don't get to see much of the house, they are without doubt left with the impression that this house is as big and luxurious as it seemed from the outside.

They walk from the entrance hallway and down a wide corridor with a plush carpet. Lavish tapestry colour the walls, and expensive art decorate them.

"My parents and a couple of their friends are in here in the living room," David explains and points at a closed door.

Across the door, is a wide staircase going down, and they all mill downwards.

The stairs leads them to a big, open room. It's packed with teenagers. A make shift dance floor is filled with happy, bouncing kids moving to music playing from a fairly decent surround system. Trent is currently acting like a DJ, rummaging through Spotify to create a new playlist. A rich snack and drink table takes up an entire wall, next to a bar where Thad is preparing ice buckets for some champagne bottles. Next to the bar, is a pool table. By the other end of the room, several seating groups offer space to rest, with some comfortable couches and armchairs, and several simpler folding chairs. Some of the girls from the Passerines have daintily sat down in front of the fire place, eagerly chatting and enjoying the fire, which really is more for the atmosphere than the need for heat, as the room is already boiling from the body temperature of all the teenagers gathered.

"Welcome to my party!" David beams, and gesticulates towards the vast room. "I hope you'll enjoy. Snacks and drinks are over there, don't hog the laptop for too long, dance, chat, laugh, and have fun," he grins, and saunters over to his girlfriend Sharon.

"Kurt!" an excited voice beams, and a jumping blond accosts him, almost spiralling them to the floor.

"Merry Christmas, Jeff," Kurt grins, and hugs his eager friend.

Nick forcibly pulls Jeff off of Kurt, only to replace his position, and almost strangle Kurt in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad you're here," Nick sights contently, squeezing Kurt even closer.

He finally lets go of him, and the two boyfriends move on to greet the New Directions. Kurt laughs and shakes his head in amusement. He looks up, and his eyes instantly lock with Blaine's standing in the middle of the room. The boy is looking at him so softly and gently, with a smile matching his gaze.

"Kurt," he mouths, and in a few long strides they meet halfway in a warm embrace. "I missed you," Blaine murmurs in Kurt's ear.

"I've missed you too," Kurt admits. Even though they've texted and talked on the phone, it still isn't the same as seeing each other face to face.

"I'm so glad you could come," Blaine sighs pleased.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Kurt replies.

They let go of each other, and take a step back to better look at the other. Blaine looks really handsome today, Kurt easily notices. He's wearing red well fitting trousers, a white illegally tight long sleeved shirt clutching to his chest, grey blazer, a deep green velvet bowtie and matching suspenders. His hair is gelled to perfection, or death.

Kurt suppresses a silly giggle at how well they seem to match, with Kurt's white trademark tight jeans, black boots, red shirt and grey vest – properly accessorized with a scarf, some chains and a broche, of course.

"Would you like something to drink?" Blaine asks, and at Kurt's affirmative, he rests a hand on his lower back to guide him to the drink table. The Warblers they pass greet Kurt with high fives, friendly nods, and Wes even gives him a quick hug.

"What would you like?" Blaine gestures at the table with an assortment of options.

"I'll just have a diet coke, please," and Blaine digs out a can to him from an ice filled bucket, and helps himself to a glass of red wine.

"I don't plan on drinking a lot tonight," Blaine says hesitantly, and Kurt realizes he's been starring at Blaine's glass. "But it's a special night, and my parents would always allow me and Cooper a sip of wine on rare, special occasions. It made us feel so grown up and important," Blaine chuckles. "I guess I just feel sentimental tonight. But I don't want to get drunk and end up doing something stupid."

"Isn't it more of a nature law," Kurt shrugs, "to be sentimental as one year ends and another one begins?"

"I believe you are right," Blaine agrees, lifting his hand to toast, and Kurt clinks his tin can against Blaine's glass.

"So, speaking of sentimentality; any new year's resolutions?"

Kurt takes a sip from the can, and ponders the question for a moment.

"Except for the obvious about eating healthy, work out more and focus on my grades, I'd like to be more laidback and relaxed. I know I can seem a bit uptight, and I often am wound tight and running around with high shoulders. So yeah, lower my shoulders and breath calmly now and then would be nice."

Blaine smiles fondly at him.

"That seems like a healthy and good resolution. Sometimes we need to just stop and remember to enjoy life, not only running off to the next crossroad."

"How about you?"

Blaine chuckles.

"I should have prepared an answer before I asked you, shouldn't I?"

Kurt just grins.

"It would probably not hurt me to be braver and take more chances, not merely walk on the wide, predictable path."

"Are you thinking about anything special?" Kurt looks questioningly at him, wondering if Blaine has any specific goals he'd like to reach. Blaine's blush confuses him even more.

"Maybe," he shrugs evasively.

"Kurt, come, you have to dance with us," Tina and Mercedes shout as they skip across the room towards him.

"I believe I am being summoned," he grins, leaving his drink by Blaine. He shimmies over to the girls, and let the music absorb him, moving to the rhythms and enjoying the beat.

* * *

Everybody seems to be having a blast at the party, and Kurt's old and new friends mingle together perfectly, even better than they did on the welcome party for Kurt at Dalton. The girls from the Passerines had seemed disappointed by the lack of single guys from the New Directions, but at least Artie gets a lot of attention from the testosterone starved girls.

Kurt had danced with probably all of his former team mates of the female kind, and even some of the boys had twirled him between them. Nick and Jeff had danced with him. And he's danced a lot with Blaine, just moving to the music and having fun.

He'd observed Rachel dancing with Wes, and couldn't help himself but whisper "should I worry about spies?" in her ear once they met at the drink table. She had blushed and stuttered something about how nice Wes was, before going back to dance with him again.

The boots are killing Kurt, so he's taken a break from the dancing and sat down in one of the couches to relax his feet. He'd consider taking them off, if he wasn't so worried about getting them back on again. And he really wants to be able to go outside to have a look at the firework at midnight. It's still 45 minutes left of this year, so he'll suffer through it.

A dip in the couch next to him makes him look up from his inner thinking, and he smiles at the girl.

"Flora, right?" he smiles at her, remembering her from the limousine they shared to the Christmas Ball.

Her long red her and piercing green eyes are unforgettable, combined with a fair freckle-less skin. She's quite short, but curvy in the right places, and Kurt can easily see how gorgeous she is. She is also incredibly shy, and smiles hesitantly at him as she nods.

"Kurt," he helps her, and reaches out a hand towards her, which she accepts. Her handshake is surprisingly firm, considering how timid she seems.

They sit in fairly comfortable silence together for a long time, and Kurt is nursing his diet coke while observing the dance floor. More specifically, he's watching Blaine with amusement. The boy is a bit tipsy, and having a blast. He's dancing like there's nobody watching, just letting loose and letting the music overpower him. Arms, legs, head and torso in every direction, and he's standing in a crowd with Nick, Jeff, Sam, Mike and Puck. They dance like they've never had any kind of training or performed a synchronized dance number in their lives, and Kurt loves it.

"He's cute," Flora suddenly comments in a low murmur, startling Kurt. He looks at her to see in which direction she's watching, and sees she's observing the same bunch of boys he's been enjoying.

"There are a lot of cute boys here," Kurt agrees.

"But you only have eyes for Blaine. That's adorable," she whispers so low Kurt hardly hears her.

"He's my best friend and I'm taking notes in case I need some heavy artillery to use against him some time," he shrugs.

"Best friends are wonderful," Flora sighs, and moves her head almost imperceptibly to the left. Kurt follows her gaze, landing on the twins Lana and Celia dancing like crazy around Artie. Kurt can't separate one from the other, but hopes Artie can.

"How long have you known them?"

"Since kindergarten, I guess. We grew up in the same street, and have always gone to the same schools. We hung out a lot, and were inseparable. But they're not as identical as they seem, and Lana and I grew closer, and became best friends. She even thinks we have a stronger connection than she has to her own twin," Flora sighs ruefully.

Kurt looks at her in awe. That's the most he's heard her talk, ever. It's as if the girl really needs someone to talk with, which is a bit weird considering the close friendship with Lana she just told about. Unless… Is there something bothering her she can't tell her best friend? And now Kurt has landed the position as the random listening ear to the drunken girl? He observes her even more closely to figure out how drunk she is. She's talking quite clearly, albeit with a low voice. She suddenly turns around, and meets his eyes with her piercing gaze. A hand clasps over her mouth.

"I'm sorry!" she says, eyes big and round.

"Don't be," Kurt says calmly. "Your friendship seems solid and precious, you are lucky."

Her eyes turn sad, and she pulls her knees up to her chest.

"Are Blaine and you dating?" she whispers into her hands.

"No," Kurt answers, honestly confused by the leap of conversational topic.

"Is it because you're best friends?"

Flora looks at him now.

"No, I think I'd date my best friend if we both were interested, I wouldn't let that stop me."

Flora nods, and seems to be thinking for a while.

"How do you know if your best friend is someone you want to date, or if you're confusing a wonderful friendship with something more?"

Kurt narrows his eyes and studies her. He doesn't know her, and really doesn't feel comfortable talking about his may or may not be-feelings and his non-existent dating life with her. What is she talking about anyway?

Flora is looking at the dancing twins again, and Kurt is watching her. She looks so sad, even though her lips are quirked up in a tight smile at the sight of the two happy sisters.

"Flora…" Kurt asks carefully, and hesitantly takes her hand away from around her legs. "Are you gay?"

The startled look she's giving him is all the answer he needs, but she vocalizes it anyway.

"No!" She swallows, speaks with less volume. "Maybe? I don't know…" She still looks sad, but with a touch of frustration and fear added to the mix. "I love her. She's my best friend."

Kurt gets it, he really does. Accepting your feelings can be such a pain, and it must be even so when you can't even categorize and understand them. He wonders if Lana is gay too, hoping she is for the sake of less potential heartbreak, but doesn't ask as said girl is skipping over to them.

"There's my favourite girl," she purrs, not entirely sober. "Come on, let's get dressed and get outside to watch all the colours on the sky," she giggles, and Kurt has to remind himself that she is actually quite bubbly and silly as sober as well. She may seem drunk and hilarious, but at least at the ball she was merely hilarious.

Not surprisingly, it turns out everybody wants to get outside to get a better view of the firework. It's a clear night, so they should be able to see all the colours and patterns on the dark sky. Mike and Puck help Artie up the stairs, and there's a clustered queue by the door, made up by teenagers trying to get their coats and boots back on. David's parents and their four friends are also joining them outside.

Finally everybody's managed to get outside, and it's still ten minutes until the next year. Blaine slides up next to Kurt, and wraps an arm around his shoulders.

"This is going to be awesome. I love fireworks!" he says excitedly, making Kurt giggle. Blaine's excitement is contagious, though, and soon Kurt finds himself pointing eagerly at particularly pretty points on the sky.

Blaine lets go of Kurt and turns away to look at something Cameron had yelled they couldn't miss out on.

Even the spacious cul de sac in front of the Thompson's home is crowded with all the party people. Someone starts yelling the countdown, and soon everybody is chiming in.

"5!"

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1! Happy New Year!"

Kurt can't help but smile at all the excited people, who seem to be thinking that they'll get heaps of new chances and beginnings, just because they're entering a new year. He leans his head backwards, and just enjoys the firework. No matter how much of a cynic he may be, he'll always appreciate watching something beautiful.

People are bumping into each other, exchanging greetings, and someone's pulled out a couple of bottles of champagne that are being passed on from hand to hand. Loud, exaggerated kissing noises, cheering and the sounds of happiness fill the air.

Two cold hands cup Kurt's cheeks, pulls him closer, and soft lips are gently pressed against his. Kurt closes his eyes by instinct, and lets his other senses rule for a short moment. He can smell cherry, and it's confirmed when the person steps away and he unconsciously licks his lips.

"Happy New Year, dolphin," she whispers, before Santana pulls Brittany and a bottle of champagne back inside.

"Man, gay guys always get the hot chicks, why is that?" Seth complains from next to Kurt.

"It's the testosterone," Blaine explains from Kurt's other side, and gives him a sideway hug. "We overflow with testosterone because we obviously spend so much time with other guys. And the girls can't resist it, their ovaries are drawn to the testosterone, thinking it will be easier to get pregnant and populate the earth. It's a biological bug in females," he continues calmly.

Blaine has wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulders, and Kurt has to lean against Blaine's chest to muffle his laughter. He smells really nice, and Kurt steps back before he's drunk on Blaine's scent. Seth is gawking, looking utterly confused.

"But… Shouldn't we get gay at Dalton, then, when we're only surrounded by other guys?" Seth looks neither offending nor condescending, just utterly confused.

"Well, there's at least four openly gay at Dalton," Blaine begins, pointing at Nick and Jeff as well. "How many gay guys were there at your old school, Kurt?"

Kurt smirks.

"I was the only out gay guy in McKinley, among all the girls and boys," he says calmly.

"And there were only two gay boys in my old school," Blaine adds. "While in an all boys school…" He shrugs and moves his hands towards the crowd of boys, as if to say _what can you do?_

"Wait, is this why the Warblers sometimes do stuff with the Passerines?"

"Yes, Seth, we spend time with the girls to make sure not too many of the students become gay," Blaine says solemnly, and Kurt pretends to sneeze to cover up his snort.

"Oh, darling Kurt, are you getting sick, I don't want you to be cold," Blaine says with big sad puppy eyes, and pulls Kurt even closer.

"Don't fret, I think your surplus of testosterone can keep me warm for a long, long time," Kurt grins wickedly as he throws an amused look at Seth.

"So, I'll go talk with someone else, I don't want to disturb you doing the thing you do to welcome the new year," Seth smiles, and is bold enough to wink at them.

"What exactly is it you think we do to welcome the new year?" Kurt asks, tilting his head.

"Uuh, I don't know. Gay stuff?"

"So you think there's a specific gay way to greet the nouvelle année?" Kurt drawls.

Seth just nods dumbly.

"It's all the testosterone," Blaine explains again. "It makes us do all kinds of crazy things. Such gay things," he flails.

"Well, enjoy," Seth gives them a thumbs up and swims through the crowd of people to look for probably some girls to lessen his testosterone level.

Kurt and Blaine watch him retreat.

"Is he for real?"

"There's not an evil nerve cell in him, he's just a bit…" Blaine looks for the right word, and Kurt knows it's difficult for him, because Blaine never badmouths anyone. "I guess he's just not as educated as we may be in certain areas," he finally settles for.

"No shit," Kurt snorts.

"Hey Kurt?" Blaine asks, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist and pulling him in front of him. "Happy new year, Kurt," he says tenderly. "May it be the best year you've ever had."

"Happy new year," Kurt whispers back as Blaine pulls him in for a warm hug. "I wish you all the best," he sighs, content to be this close to his best friend.

"May you live long and prosper," Sam greets them as he passes by, with Mercedes on his arm.

Blaine responds with the Vulcan salute, earning an approving nod from Sam.

* * *

The air has somewhat left the balloon when they are gathered back in the basement. The music isn't as loud, the beat is softer, the dancing is calmer, and more people are sitting down. Nick and Jeff have dragged Kurt on top of their laps in a couch, and everybody is talking softly. Remembering treasured memories from the year that went, looking forward to plans made for the next year, saluting everything that was and everything that may be.

Eventually some of the Warblers and some of the Passerines bid their goodbyes, and leave. Some of them live in Columbus, and some of them have designated drivers to take them home. But more than half of the party guests will be spending the night.

The party stays calm and comfortable, and not even Puck or Santana complain about the lack of wasted people and free flowing booze.

When the time comes to get some sleep, they roll out their sleeping bags on the floor, on the couches and in the chairs, getting as comfortable as they possibly can. Those who are already dating, pair up to use the opportunity to snuggle an entire night with their special one. Even Sam and Mercedes, who aren't official – yet – find a secluded corner, but Kurt recognizes the giggles from his best friend.

Kurt looks awkwardly around the room, wondering where he should settle down. All the comfortable places are already taken, so he just has to find a spot on the floor he deems good enough.

Two surprisingly strong arms wrap themselves around his waist from behind.

"I know where you should sleep," a soft voice suggests. "Come here, we have a pool, I'm sure it's spacious for you too."

Brittany takes his hand, and gently tugs him behind the bar, where Santana is administrating a double air mattress. It explains Kurt's confusion.

"Santana, we dolphins need to stick together," she says, and invites the girl into a sandwich-hug.

"Sweetie, there are a lot of dolphins here, and not all of them can swim with us," Santana explains tenderly.

"But Kurt was all alone, and his dolphin has disappeared."

Santana sighs, deeply.

"OK. It's not like I thinks I could get my mack on tonight anyway. He can stay."

Kurt shudders.

"Seriously, Santana, if you plan to do things with your… lady parts," he says, gesturing vaguely to their torsos, "I'm so not sleeping here, or in this room at all."

"Calm down, Prancy Smurf, I can control my urges," she rolls her eyes.

They finally settle down on the big mattress. Brittany suggested Kurt lay down between them, but he politely declined.

* * *

Being an early riser, Kurt is one of the first to wake up the next morning. He needs to use the bathroom, so he climbs up the stairs.

A chopping sound from the kitchen peaks his curiosity, and he decides to go in there instead of going back down.

Flora is standing by the counter, making what seems to be the beginning of a fruit salad.

"Good morning," Kurt carefully greets her, to let her know he's there, hoping she won't get startled and cut her fingers.

"Good morning," she replies without looking up, focused on the slippery grapes she's splitting in halves, but there's a smile in her voice. "David told us to make whatever we wanted for breakfast," she explains, and briefly gestures with the knife and all the fruit on the counter.

"I could make pancakes," Kurt suggests, and rummages through the pantry and fridge to find the needed ingredients.

They work in silence for a long while, 20 people or so will devour a lot of breakfast.

"You're a junior too, right?"

Kurt hums an affirmative to the random question.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"You can try," Kurt says, slightly guarded.

"When did you know you're gay?" Flora asks with a steady voice, but she doesn't look at him.

He hesitates for a moment, sensing he'll need to thread carefully with his answer.

"I think I've always known in some way. It wasn't a big revelation for me, but more of a gradual awareness, like slotting the pieces of a puzzle together and getting a clearer and better picture of it all. But that's not how it is for everybody," he adds. "Some are slow risers and doesn't understand or realize until they are older. Some acknowledge it to themselves, but doesn't go public with it at once. And some struggle a lot with understanding what it is before they come out," he says, briefly thinking about Karofsky.

"So there's no… expiry date? You can discover that you're a… lesbian later in life?"

Kurt almost wants to laugh, but he doesn't want to offend the girl.

"There's no right or wrong coming out-story. Everyone has to do what feels right, comfortable and safe for them, as long as they're not hurting anyone," he says, again sending a fleeting thought to Karofsky.

Flora doesn't speak anymore, and seems deep in thought.

"Hey, do you want my number?" Kurt offers. "In case you want to have a coffee and chat some day, or something? I can need some girl time away from Dalton," he chuckles.

She smiles and hands him her phone silently. Maybe "chat" wasn't the right word for a shy and wordless girl like Flora, but Kurt really wants to be someone she can turn to if she needs it.

"I sent a text to myself as well, so I have your number too," he says and hands her the phone back.

"Do we smell pancakes?" Niff happily exclaim as they enter the kitchen hand in hand.

Blaine is stumbling tiredly behind them, yawning and stretching his arms in the air. The movement lifts his t-shirt, and a thin sliver of skin, glorious skin, is visible. Kurt can't help but stare. Blaine busies himself with the coffee maker, and Nick grins knowingly at Kurt.

"Please don't burn our pancakes," he winks, taking the spatula out of Kurt's limp hand to flip the pancake.

More and more hungry teenagers mill into the kitchen. Those who arrived first decide they've made their share of food, help themselves to breakfast, and retreat back down to the basement to hopefully make the kitchen less crowded.

"Where did you disappear yesterday?" Blaine asks when they've settled down by the table. One of the perks of being up early and getting food first, is also getting decent seats to eat. "I was putting my stuff in one of the guest rooms, and when I came back to invite you to share the big bed I couldn't see you anywhere."

"I ended up on an air mattress with Brittany and Santana behind the bar," Kurt explains, pointing in the direction.

"You and your Cheerios," Blaine grins.

"What can I say? The girls like me," Kurt shrugs, and takes a big masculine bite of his pancake.

"It must be all the testosterone," Blaine smirks, and nods at the sleeping Seth on the pool table to remind Kurt of their jokes from last night.

"Yup, I'm the epitome of testosterone," Kurt drawls.

"Well, you're man enough for me," Blaine says softly, and gets really preoccupied with his salad bowl.

Kurt narrows his eyes and furrows his forehead.

"What do you mean?" he asks, obviously confused.

"I mean…" Blaine hesitates, and is he blushing? "I'm gay, you know?"

Kurt nods, he knows this, but where is Blaine going with it?

"And as a gay guy I don't have problem… _acknowledging_… that you have several finer qualities that are wanted… in a guy. For a gay guy…"

Blaine is stuttering and mumbling, blushing and playing with his food, and Kurt is still confused.

"But I'm also gay, and I can still see that Santana is hot."

"Of course I'm hot," Santana scoffs, and slumps down in an armchair across the table. "What Bobby McGay here is trying to say, is that you are a Pretty Pony, as Brittany would have said it."

Kurt groans, resting his head in his hands.

"I cannot have a conversation with my best friend, where the Devil offers to function as a translator, using the language of Brittany. This is too confusing too early. Move on, new topic."

Santana smirks at the flustered Blaine, and saunters off to find Brittany.

"So, do you think Wes got a new gavel from Santa?" Blaine asks, successfully steering the conversation in a less awkward direction.

* * *

After cleaning up the kitchen, manhandling some of the mess in the basement, and thanking David's parents profoundly for letting them stay, the New Directions plus Kurt takes the train back to Lima.

They make agreements for further social outings, holding on to the last days of their break before they have to go back to school again.


	29. Enter Drama Llama

**AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews, and welcome to my new readers!**

**Yeah, I know, you all hate me, you all thought it was Blaine kissing Kurt on New Year's Eve. Pssh, that would be too random and predictable. And now, let's turn over to a completely new kind of page. Haters gonna hate…**

**And for your reassurance: I know what I'm doing and where I'm going. Please have faith in me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

Kurt has already unpacked his suitcases and gotten settled in his room at Dalton again. That's why he's relaxing in Blaine's bed, watching the boy unpack after their Christmas break to get his dorm ready for a new semester.

"Your Christmas gift is wonderful, I can't say thank you enough," Blaine beams brightly, and picks up three flat items from his suitcase.

Kurt simply smiles back at him. The other boy has said thank you more than once, and Kurt is glad the gift is appreciated.

"I want to get it up on my wall immediately, but the janitor won't be back until tomorrow," Blaine pouts.

"What do you need the janitor for?" Kurt asks confused.

"I need a hammer and a couple of hooks."

"You don't need a janitor for that," Kurt scoffs and gets out of bed. He's only away from the room for a couple of minutes.

"You actually have your own tool box?" Blaine asks awed.

"Of course I do. You never know when you'll need it, and I like to be prepared. And independent…"

Blaine smirks.

"I've seen your sewing kit. That has to be better stacked than this box."

"Well of course," Kurt scoffs. "I do have my priorities. Fashion emergencies happen more frequent than carpenter emergencies, anyway. Now, do you know how to handle your tools, or do you need me to help you?"

Kurt is met with a blank face.

"Umm, Blaine?"

Blaine blinks and shakes his head.

"You said… I… My… Never mind."

He climbs into bed with Kurt's Christmas gifts.

"I think I want them here," he says.

Kurt hands him the awl and hammer, and then a hook to screw into the tiny hole he's making. Not even five minutes later they're done, standing side by side on the floor and admiring Blaine's handiwork.

"Those signs are perfect, it's the best gift I got for Christmas," Blaine gushes.

Kurt smiles bashfully, and watches the three vintage retro signs with coffee motives. He'd hoped they'd suit Blaine's style. One says _Coffee! If you're not shaking, you need another cup_. The second says _Drink coffee. Do stupid things faster with more energy_. And the last says _Coffee, chocolate and men. The richer, the better_.

* * *

It's the first Warblers' practice after the Christmas vacation, and the room is filled with boys bursting with excitement. Dalton is their home away from home, and it's always greatly appreciated to come back. Family is nice, but you make some special friendships in high school – especially if you board together as well. So it's no wonder the Council hardly makes any real effort to silence the boys, not yet at least. The boys need to calm down their buzzes of greetings, telling about their parties and gifts, and sharing the joy of being back. It's more than a week since the New Year's Party at David's, and for some a lot has happened since then. Anyway, being at Dalton does something to them, regardless of when they saw each other last.

Eventually they calm down enough for Wes and his gavel to drown out their noise

"Gentlemen, yes, it is great to be back. This will be a busy semester, so let's try to focus, shall we?"

"When did you get your gavel back, Wes?" Nick asks, clearly surprised to see the long missing item in the Council member's hand.

"Yeah, did you finally solve Kurt's riddles?" Jeff exclaims excited. Neither knew where Kurt had hid it, he'd kept completely quiet about it and not told a soul.

Wes clears his throat awkwardly.

"It was actually on the Council's table when we came back after Christmas, with a note from the cleaning staff they'd found it."

"Where did they find it?"

A chorus of questions fills the room, and Kurt smiles amused. Blaine looks at him both questioningly and proudly – they know how desperate Wes was to find his gavel again.

"The note didn't say," Wes says calmly, but he fools nobody – he's dying to know where it was as well.

"Kurt, you have to tell us!"

The entire room directs its attention towards Kurt.

"As if I'm about to reveal a perfect hiding spot," Kurt snorts.

The room erupts in annoyance, and Wes eagerly uses his newfound gavel. The boys are eventually successfully silenced, and settle down on the couches. Kurt is seated next to Trent, who was inviting the boys to try a new game he got for Christmas in his room later on when Wes interrupted.

"Warbler Hummel, the Council would like to know where The Gavel has been for the past month," David says sternly, voice all business.

Kurt sighs and rolls his eyes.

"I hid the gavel in the girls' bathroom, on top of the paper towel dispenser."

Wes splutters.

"So you hid it in plain view in a room anybody could access?"

"Yes. And still you didn't succeed in finding it," Kurt smirks, receiving various cheers from his fellow Warblers. Nick and Jeff are grinning excited at him, and Blaine is shaking his head in amusement, stifling his laughter.

"I'm a gentleman; I wouldn't risk offending anyone by visiting the ladies' room…" Wes blushes, realizing his stupidity in this game of hide and seek.

"OK, let's get back to order and follow the protocol. We have several announcements," David says loud, but calmly, and the room settles down.

"There will be some changes this semester; we are trying out a new method for the Warblers," Wes explains, having gathered himself again. "We will continue with our daily rehearsals, but once a week – every Friday – we've decided to _loosen up_."

Wes is interrupted by a loud whooping sound from the back of the room. He clears his voice to gain the attention back, and continues.

"We'll use that time slot to work on our improvisations and spontaneity. The Council will not dictate the song selections Fridays, rather you will be encouraged to suggest and perform songs after your heart's desire. The Council believes this will be a way to expand our horizon, give us new challenges, and discover hidden treasures for our set list."

The room is again filled with noisy murmurs from the Warblers, some tossing out song ideas, some improvising immediately, some questioning the Council's sanity.

"This sounds weird and interesting. How New Direction-esque of them," Kurt whispers to Blaine sitting on his other side.

Blaine nods and smiles, not saying anything, to not be a part of the ruckus that delays the Warblers' Council.

"Speaking of set list," David continues. "As you are well aware of, we are competing at Regionals this year. The details aren't made public yet, but it will be held in the end of March or beginning of April," he explains. "We should start thinking about our set list immediately."

"That's why we've decided to do a kick off workshop weekend," Wes explains eagerly. "The traditional Warbler Weekend has always been in the beginning of the school year, but we want to add to the tradition and go away together in the beginning of this semester as well."

"As this is more about workshop and preparations than social bonding and fun, we're not planning anything fancy," Thad begins telling them. "We're going to a cabin out in the woods, it's fairly primitive, but we'll be alone and won't disturb anyone with our singing and crazy."

"We're leaving after class Friday next week, so clear the weekend, this is mandatory," David continues. "More details will be e-mailed you."

"But now for the most pressing matter and the highlight we're all waiting for," Wes exclaims, bouncing happily in his chair. "To reveal the Secret Santas!"

The boys take turn in guessing who their Secret Santa was, and if they aren't right, the Santa reveals himself. Kurt is surprised how many boys haven't managed to find out who their Secret Santa is, but he likes to think it is because the Warblers are a tight knitted group of boys who already are very close and friendly.

When it's Nick's turn, he thinks for a while.

"Jeff?" he guesses, not seeming convinced.

"Sorry sweetie, I've just been loving you as good as I can."

"It was me," Kurt admits bashfully.

Nick beams with delight, resting one hand over his heart as he blows Kurt a kiss with the other.

"Your Christmas gift is beautiful, Kurt, I love it!"

Kurt blushes from the praise.

"I'm glad," he manages to say.

Kurt had remembered Nick's reaction when they watched _Dead Poets' Society_ together, and had therefore written Todd Anderson's improvised poem with a calligraphic pen on some beautiful paper, and bought a matching frame to it. It was an inexpensive gift for Kurt's limited wallet, but he had hoped Nick would appreciate the personal gesture to it.

Then Kurt has to make a guess on who's his Secret Santa, and he hasn't got a clue. To be honest, he hasn't been thinking much about it, but just enjoyed whatever happened.

"I don't know, you all have made me feel so welcome, and anyone could have been the Santa," Kurt says truthfully.

"I guess I didn't do my job well enough, then," Blaine says shyly.

Oh.

"Oh, Blaine, you're a perfect Santa, you did the sweetest things." Kurt does his best to smile convincingly, but he just wants to leave the room.

Finally all the Santas are revealed, and they are dismissed. Kurt can't get fast enough out of the room, and when Nick shouts after him to wait up he waves off a lie about a Skype appointment.

* * *

The choir room is emptied, except for Wes and David.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," David sighs.

"No, what went wrong? Blaine was supposed to be an attentive Santa and woo Kurt into dating him."

"It doesn't seem like they are dating…"

"Maybe Kurt needs to think about what just happened before he falls into Blaine's awaiting embrace? Let's give them this weekend to figure it out," Wes suggest, still having faith in their master plan.

"I hope you're right," David sighs, fearing a disastrous outcome.

* * *

Kurt has learned a lot about a diva's storm out from Rachel, but he doesn't want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary. That's why he's silently rushing to his room, and closes the door carefully, even though he has a desire to crash the door against its frame and make a lot of noise. He locks the door, and starts pealing off his uniform. He leaves the clothes wherever they land on the floor, slips into his pyjamas, and tucks himself into his covers without bothering to deal with neither toothbrush nor skin care. Not until his head is buried in pillows does he let his tears fall.

Kurt is the most stupid, naïve, hopeless, daydreaming, idiotic fool ever to grace the planet. He's spent so much of the Christmas holiday missing Blaine, longing to be back at Dalton, thinking about things they could do together, and wishing for more of Blaine in his life. His girls had convinced him he totally stood a chance with Blaine, and they were sure it wouldn't be long until they got together.

Kurt had come back to Dalton feeling so optimistic, not to mention all the butterflies who were egging him on to hurry back and see Blaine again. His infatuation with the boy has somewhat managed to grow even more intense during their weeks spent apart.

But less than 24 hours later, he learns that everything Blaine has ever done to and for him is because of a stupid game. Every nice gesture, every smile, every conversation, every initiative stems from being his freaking Santa.

Kurt's sobs are mostly muffled by his pillows, but his body is trembling under the covers. He flips his pillow over to the dry side.

Kurt's heart is shattered.

* * *

The next morning, Kurt wakes up early, and he completes his morning rituals in the bathroom in due time before Blaine gets up. He puts in an extra effort to make his face seem less tear stained and cry-swollen. Kurt's even finished his breakfast and left the dining hall, before any of his closest friends have greeted him with anything resembling a "good morning".

Which is good. Because it isn't.

He hides, no, he stays adamant, in the library for an hour before the first class starts, and takes the opportunity to do some homework. Dalton isn't offering an easy start of the new semester.

Blaine, of course, both texts and calls Kurt, assumingly to find out where he is, but Kurt has conveniently enough silenced his phone, and ignores the illuminated screen flashing through the fabric of his pants and the vibrations tickling his thigh.

They don't share all classes, and those are the best. It's a free haven for Kurt to pay attention and be an attentive student with thoughtful questions and good answers. The classes they share, however, are more difficult.

At first, Blaine is simply watching him with a questioning look. His eyes eventually grow worried, but Kurt keeps ignoring him. He leaves the classroom as quickly as possible when the teacher dismisses them, and manages to stay away from Blaine by roaming the crowded hallways until he has to get to the next class.

It's trickier to avoid Blaine during Warblers' rehearsal, especially because Blaine takes the seat next to him. The other Warblers are so used to see them sitting together, so nobody had even thought about sitting down in the vacant seat next to Kurt. Blaine is intent in his efforts to get Kurt's attention, but luckily the Council has a lot to say today, so the polite Mr. Anderson has to shush it to not disturb the gathering.

When they get up to do a run through of one of their better fallback numbers, Blaine has to take the position in front as the lead, and Kurt avoids him at any cost. They are – quite ironically – preparing and planning an impromptu performance in the main building come Monday, to give the semester a decent kick start.

As the Council lets them go for the evening, Blaine manages to catch Kurt before he can leave the room.

"Hey Kurt, is everything OK? Would you like to…"

"Sorry Blaine, I've made plans with Nick," Kurt interrupts him, and yanks the hand of a certain Mr. Duval who happens to pass them at the moment.

Nick looks confused and Blaine looks hurt, but Kurt swiftly leaves the room, still yanking Nick with him.

"Kurt, what's going on?" Nick demands to know after almost stumbling down the stairs.

"Is your roommate still in hospital with pneumonia?"

Nick nods.

"Good. I need to spend some time in your room."

"I was planning to grab some dinner, wanna join…"

"We're not hungry," Kurt cuts him off.

Nick finally gains his balance back, stops, and holds Kurt back.

"Let me text Jeff so he can bring us both something to eat, and the two of us can talk in my room. 'Kay?" he asks, looking sternly at the boy.

The plan Nick describes is followed through, and soon after Kurt is sprawled on his stomach on the bed of Nick's roommate.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Do you want to talk about it with someone else?"

"Definitely not."

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"I could do that."

Kurt could declare his love for Nick at that moment, for letting him be, and offering the sweet distraction he so desperately needs. Nick pops in the disc to _10 Things I Hate About You_, and Kurt both cries and laughs before he falls asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Kurt gives Nick his room key, so he can pick up some toiletries and a new uniform, as the one he's wearing is all crinkled after spending a night in it.

When Nick locks himself into Kurt's room, someone is sleeping in the distraught boy's bed, and Nick isn't surprised to see that someone is Blaine. Nick tries to be silent to not awaken the boy, but he fails, and Blaine jumps out of bed.

"Do you know where he is?" Blaine asks frantically.

Nick nods hesitantly.

"He asked me to pick up some clothes for him."

"Can I come with you?" Blaine asks eagerly, almost stumbling in his own feet to get to Nick.

"Blaine…" Nick sighs. "I haven't got the faintest idea what's going on between you, but it's clear that he doesn't want to see you right now. Let him fume and let out some steam, and I'm sure you'll be talking again before dinner," Nick reassures him.

"But… I don't even know why he's mad at me. I don't even really know if he's mad at me, or if he has other reasons to avoid me and bite me off."

"Blaine… You should know him better than I do, and even I see he needs and wants to be left alone for now."

"Is he OK?" he asks, clearly worried.

"I'll keep you posted if something changes," Nick says evasively.

He returns to Kurt with his stuff, and the countertenor heads out to the corridor to use the bath room the rest of the dorms in the hallway are sharing.

Nick gets changed into uniform as well, while wondering what's going on with Kurt, and how Blaine is a part of this.

He has to keep wondering, though, because Kurt never shows up for breakfast, and is perpetually absent between classes. That goes for lunch as well. Nick runs to both his and Kurt's room to see if he's there, and Jeff's search in the library turns out fruitless. Kurt doesn't want to be found. He shows up for every class, but he doesn't speak unless addressed, and he's nowhere the vibrant, eager, reflective and thought-provocative student he usually is.

When Kurt doesn't show up for Warblers' rehearsal, that really worries Nick, though. He can see the sadness and hurt radiating from Blaine, and two out of three Council members don't have to be close friends to see how off he is. They don't practice anything with Blaine in the lead, and the Council ends the rehearsal early, reminding them tomorrow is their first opportunity for improvised and unscheduled performances.

Later that evening, right before Nick is finishing up his homework and headed for bed, Kurt slumps in the door. He's soaked through and through, and must have spent hours outside in the pouring rain. He doesn't say anything, so Nick wordlessly offers him a spare pair of pyjamas, and watches him retreat to the locker room for probably a warm shower. Kurt all but crawls back in bed, and even though he tucks himself completely under the covers, Nick can still hear his muffled sobs.

He shoots off a quick text to Blaine, and mutes his phone so they won't be disturbed.

_He's back, stop worrying, get some sleep._

Nick silently steps across the room, and slips under the covers, wrapping Kurt up in his arms. They don't say anything; Nick just keeps holding Kurt, being the bigger spoon.

* * *

Kurt wakes up in a comforting embrace, and for a quarter of a second he thinks they are Blaine's arms wrapped around him. Then he remembers Blaine doesn't care much about him after all, and what he thought was a new best friend and a blossoming crush have just been figments of his imagination. He inhales shakily, feeling as if his lungs can never get enough air.

Nick is a heavy sleeper, so Kurt easily disentangles himself from the embrace, and quickly gets ready for a new school day. He runs off to the hiding place he's used the last days, to make sure he's left alone. Honestly, he's a bit surprised nobody's walked in on him. Either the Warblers are really dim, or they haven't cared about his absence at all. The number of missed calls and unread texts proves otherwise, though. But he can't care about missing out on Warblers' rehearsal, he just can't spend anymore time than necessary in the same room as Blaine, and he most definitely is not in a singing mood.

So Kurt spends the time before first class and the entire lunch break in the girls' bathroom, resting on the spotless floor and reading a book without really knowing what the pages say. He gets a notice the last class is cancelled due to their teacher's dentist appointment, so when he's done for the day he bolts to the student's parking lot, and before he can make a conscious decision, he's already on his way back to Lima.

Burt is glad to see his son home for the weekend, and if he's surprised to see him again after less than a week at Dalton after the long Christmas break, he doesn't say anything. Kurt forces all the hurt away, and manages to have a decent Friday with his family. He prepares dinner while they wait for Carole to end her shift and Finn to come home from football practice.

* * *

Blaine's eyes quickly scan the Warblers' hall to see if Kurt's arrived yet. His heart drops to his stomach, and with disappointment he takes his usual seat, looking at the empty space next to him where Kurt always sits.

Kurt still hasn't showed up when Wes bangs the gavel to inform them rehearsal is in session. Blaine looks questioningly at Nick, who shrugs apologetically. Apparently, he doesn't know where Kurt is either.

Blaine had tried to make Kurt talk to him during the few classes they shared that day, even slipping him notes in the strict Mrs. Buchannan's class. But Kurt had dodged or ignored all his efforts, and Blaine hadn't managed to make him say anything but "morning", "of course not", and "pay attention".

Wes reminds them this rehearsal is open for improvising and spontaneous performances, but if nobody has anything they'd want to sing, the Council has a back up-plan.

There's an awkward silence for a couple of minutes, as none of the Warblers are used to this possibility and way of rehearsing. Then the sound of the piano is filling the room, and Blaine is surprised to discover that he's the one sitting by the ivory keys. The room is silent in an expecting way, and he pours all his frustration into the lyrics.

"_Where did you go when things went wrong, baby, who did you run to, to find a shoulder to lay your head upon. Baby, wasn't I there, didn't I take good care of you, no, no I can't believe you're leaving me..._"

Blaine is so immersed in the song, it's as if the rest of the room has dissolved and disappeared. He sings until his throat is raw, forcing out the words as he tries to keep his tears at bay. He plummets through to the chorus.

"_Stay with me baby, please stay with me baby. Stay with me baby, I can't go on_."

He just can't understand what he's done wrong to make Kurt so upset with him, and he wishes they'd talk this through and make things between them work again. It hurts to see how the boy is avoiding him, carrying a halo of pain and sadness over him.

"_Remember, you said you'd never ever gonna leave me. Remember, remember, I'm asking you, begging you, please, oooh, stay with me baby!_"

In a muffled, distant background he recognizes the other Warblers harmonizing with him as he plummets through the chorus two more times.

The last tones fade away, and Blaine jolts up from the piano bench, doing a beeline out of the room while not so discreetly wiping away a couple of tears.

* * *

Saturday afternoon finds Kurt in bed, flipping his phone around and around on his stomach. His inbox is sighing from the heavy load of unread texts, and he wonders if maybe he should do something about it.

The last text came from Nick last afternoon, when Kurt would have thought he was in Warblers' rehearsal. The Council is very strict on its no phone-policy.

Kurt quickly opens it before he can change his mind, and it turns out to be a multi media-message, more precisely a video. Curiously, he opens it. It seems to be from the Warblers' rehearsal room; Kurt could have recognized those surroundings in any kind of line up. The phone hasn't been able to focus clearly, but someone is sitting by the piano and playing. As soon as the Warbler opens his mouth, Kurt knows who it is.

Chills run down his spine when he hears Blaine's voice. Listening to Blaine sing is always a special experience, with his amazing voice and stage presence. But Kurt's never heard him sound so emotional, so hurt, so raw, so pained before. It literally puts an ache in Kurt's heart. Listening to Blaine performing like this – he truly is a great artist, able to convince such emotions to his audience. So, maybe Kurt has been rude to him and offended him. But Kurt was fooled and led on first. OK, Kurt himself is probably the one to blame the most for being so naïve yet again. But his hurt pride and heart need to let someone else pay for this stupidity too.

Kurt groans and turns the phone off, before tears overpower him. He wishes things were less overwhelming. And he wishes he still had Blaine's friendship.

* * *

A hesitant knock on his door wakes Kurt from his pitiful reveries. At his invite, Finn opens the door and carefully steps over the threshold. He's carrying two mugs with him, steam slowly drifting to the ceiling.

"Umm, I thought maybe you'd want some hot milk?" Finn offers him one of the mugs.

"Thank you," Kurt says softly, and moves to a somewhat more sitting position in bed.

He pats the mattress next to him, and Finn slouches down, surprisingly enough without a drop spilled. They are silent for a long time, sipping to their hot liquids.

"Are you going to tell me what's up?" Finn eventually asks.

"Why does anything have to be 'up'?" Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Because you came home again after only a couple of days at Dalton, and it can't be to spend some time with family, 'cause you've been sulking in here all day. I don't think you've even told any of the girls you're home, or they'd have been on the door by now."

Damn Finn for being so perceptive when it doesn't suit Kurt.

"Maybe I was homesick and missed my room," Kurt shrugs.

Finn looks sternly at him, shaking his head slowly.

"Nope. Then you'd been homesick before Christmas too. And you couldn't stop rambling on and on about how much fun it would be to go back to Dalton. Something happened. Spill. Or I'll get Burt."

Kurt glares at him. He wouldn't?

"Oh, I would," Finn confirms unsolicited.

Kurt huffs, and runs a hand through his hair. A clear sign of his distress.

"I kind of ended up in some kind of a fight, and I needed to get out of there for a couple of days," Kurt says carefully, not in the mood to let Finn in on his miserable, misunderstood and mistaken love life.

"Did anyone hurt you?" Finn says stiffly, and takes Kurt's free hand as if to look for bruises on his knuckles.

"No, no, not that kind of fight. Nobody got physical."

"But somebody hurt you," Finn says angrily, and drains the last of his milk. He looks as if he wants to head straight out to Dalton at once, and teach someone a lesson.

"Finn," Kurt says calmly. "I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose. It was me being… stupid."

"How can you have been stupid?" Finn asks, clearly confused. "You're a straight A-student, and always call me out on my shit. You're like super smart!"

Kurt chuckles.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. But even I have an Achilles' heel."

Finn scrutinizes him for a moment.

"You gotta give me shorter and more words so I can up my game, man."

Kurt rolls his eyes, fondly, at his step brother.

"Do you feel prepared to talk about boy trouble?" he asks challengingly.

"Umm, should I perhaps get Burt instead?"

"You are to do no such thing," Kurt advices him.

Finn scoots closer to Kurt, and they sit side by side with their legs stretched out in front of them.

"So somebody broke your heart. That sucks."

Kurt leans his head on his bigger brother's shoulder.

"Yeah. It does." Kurt listens to his own breathing slowing down to follow Finn's. "Do you wanna watch a movie?"

Finn beams and nods eagerly.

"Yeah, I have a perfect McQueen movie. Isn't that the clothes you always talk about?"

Intrigued, Kurt tilts his head, curious to see what kind of movie Finn is thinking about. The frankenteen grins, and hands Kurt the cover of the disc he just put in the DVD-player. Pixar's _Cars_. Of course. Finn gets comfortable in Kurt's bed again, and Kurt goes back to lean his head against his shoulder.

Halfway into the movie, Finn opens his mouth.

"It's a good thing you have Blaine, though. He's awesome, I'm sure he can help you mend your broken heart."

Unsuccessfully, Kurt blinks several times to prevent the tears from falling again.

"Honestly, I thought you were dating him, but I guess you're not. He promised me on the phone to look after you, so I've got that covered, though," Finn says brightly, clearly proud of himself for taking care of Kurt.

"No. Umm, no, not dating anyone. Just a severe case of unrequited feelings and a painful reality check."

"That sucks big time, bro."

They don't say anything more until the movie has ended.

"So, how's school?" Kurt asks to get rid of the awkward silence as the DVD loops the menu.

"School's OK. Rachel and Mr. Schue have made some changes with the New Directions. Rachel and I are team captains, but we've decided to spread the solos more evenly."

"Really?" Kurt asks confused and surprised. It's not like Rachel to step down from her thrown willingly.

"Yeah, we're giving all the guys a chance to shine. Puck's voice is awesome, and Artie has some skills that we can use better. We can use Sam to make the girls swoon."

Kurt nods in understanding. Of course none of the girls are mentioned in this. Kurt can't disagree with the idea – Finn is a decent singer, but not spectacular, and most of the guys will be able to hold their own in comparison. This seems like Rachel seeing the wider spectre of quality in Glee club now that she's not dating Finn anymore.

"So what does it mean for you, that you're a team captain?"

"Well, the captains meet with Mr. Schue once a week to make plans, discuss song suggestions, costumes and important stuff. And I'm in charge of recruiting, and being their leader, encourage the team spirit and stuff," Finn shrugs.

Kurt wonders what's happening. He can see Finn as a leader; he's already experienced with that from football. But where does this change come from? What has happened for Rachel to do this to the New Direction? If he didn't know better, he'd say they were beginning to act like the Warblers.

And a terrific thought explodes in Kurt's mind.

"Finn, did Rachel ever mention anything about these changes before Christmas break?"

"No, actually she said she's been thinking during her Jewish meditation feast, and thought that in the new year we should try new things."

Kurt nods. He has a sneaking suspicion, but he has to do some more digging before he can confront anyone.

* * *

Kurt spends most of the Sunday in the garage with his father, claiming he needs the money so he can afford the gas to come home more often. It's Burt's soft spot, so he lets his son work out whatever issues he's having with the help of manual labour and dirty cars, for how long he wants. Burt had made sure to let Kurt know he could always come to him, if he needed to talk about something, but he doesn't push the subject at the moment. He needs a starting point to be able to approach Kurt and get him to open up. Maybe Carole has picked up on something, she's better at that stuff than he is.

Kurt ends up spending the night in Lima as well, not going back to Dalton until the next morning. He stalls for such a long time in his family's kitchen, he isn't in the room for the first class until mere seconds before their teacher arrives as well. He ignores how Blaine is looking at him.

* * *

During the fourth period, the Warblers announce their impromptu performance in fifteen minutes in the grand foyer in the main building. The staff has been given advanced warning the same morning, of course.

Blazer- and sweater clad boys mill out from every classroom, hurrying towards the performance location. Kurt can't help but think about his first visit to Dalton, when he'd seen the endless stream of students headed for _somewhere_, and had taken a chance on asking one of them what was going on. Now look what that got him.

He slows down, not feeling the rush of excitement. He makes sure to stay out of sight for the Council. No way is he going to perform with them today.

He takes the back entrance for the main building, which leads him directly to the second floor. He carefully sits down on the first step on top of the grand staircase. The same staircase where he first met Blaine. He crouches down to make himself smaller and more invisible, and fights against his tears.

Most of the Warblers are gathered, and he can see Blaine looking around the foyer, as if he's searching for something. Wes grabs his hands and shakes his head, and Blaine goes into position. He lets his eyes roam the area one more time, and Kurt is glad the staircase is brimmed with standing boys. There's no chance anyone can see him all the way up here, sitting down.

Kurt can easily identify the void where his countertenor voice should have been, making the harmonies even richer.

It's a bit weird, watching a performance he once was a part of like this. He's never noticed the intensity of Blaine's voice, dancing and eyes in this particular number. Had he really been like this during Sectionals?

"_I am in misery. There ain't nobody who can comfort me. Why won't you answer me? __The silence is slowly killing me. __Boy, you really got me bad. You really got me bad. Now I'm gonna get you back._"

Kurt's heart skips a beat when he hears how Blaine has changed the gender in the lyrics. He'd wanted to do that for Sectionals, but finally settled down with paying respect to the original lyrics, as he'd announced dramatically, but they both knew he simply was afraid to give the song a gay frame on a stage in Ohio. Kurt had supported him, comforted him, but Blaine still felt like a coward, like an artist with no back bone and agenda of his own.

Kurt carefully walks away from the top of the staircase before the Warblers are even done, and hurries back to his own dorm. He needs some clean clothes and his laptop, and hopes to get it without Blaine noticing.

When the rest of their classes are done, Kurt spends the evening in front of his computer to work on an essay in social science. Nick is presumably giving him space, by spending time with Jeff in the other boy's room.

* * *

During lunch the next day, Kurt receives a text from the Council, telling him today's rehearsal is mandatory, and they expect his presence.

Kurt dreads walking to the Warblers' room, expecting a public yelling for skipping.

Nick and Jeff escort him to the room. They find a couch all three of them can sit down in, Kurt still pierced between them.

Blaine is standing by the Council's table, looking defeated while the Council members are discussing something. His eyes follow Kurt as the trio walks in, and Kurt does everything he can to avoid those hazel eyes.

When rehearsal is over, Blaine manages to block Kurt's path out and prevent his exit.

"Kurt…" he begs.

"No. Just no," he barks, sidesteps Blaine and hurriedly leaves the room.

He power walks through the building, because running in the hallways is still forbidden, but he picks up speed as he can hear the crunching gravel under his shoes. He reaches the park, and keeps running, until his feet are heavy and he can taste blood. Gods, the physical pain is exquisite, such a sweet relief after all the heartache. He decides to walk back to the barbeque area to sit down on one of the benches.

He cries silently, while watching what used to be the fire.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

Blaine's voice startles him, and he leaps up.

"I need time," he says defensively, hoping it'll buy him said time.

"I wish I knew what's wrong," Blaine whispers brokenly. He sits down on the bench, pulling his knees to his chest.

Kurt jumps at this possibility.

"Leave me alone," he warns Blaine, and starts running before the boy can even disentangle from the bench.

He runs straight to the parking lot, luckily his car keys are in the satchel he brought for rehearsal. He gets into the car, slams the pedals, and is out of there.

He doesn't know where he wants to go, he doesn't know where he's going, he's just driving and driving. He ends up parking in front of a deserted elementary school, and lets the sobs he's been stalling wreck him. He feels so betrayed, so hurt, so humiliated. And he just wishes Blaine for once would let his dapper, polite gentleman manners be, and ignore Kurt, move on, and laugh at the silly game the Council hosted.

It's almost midnight when he gets back to Dalton and Nick's room. Unashamed and uncaring, he changes from uniform to pyjamas in the middle of the dark room, not caring if Nick is awake or not, and can see or not.

A dip in the mattress alerts him of Nick approaching, and he turns around and presses his face into Nick's chest, working really hard to not cry anymore. Nick doesn't say anything, just runs a hand up and down his back until Kurt falls asleep.

* * *

Wednesday is fairly eventless. Kurt continues to blatantly ignore Blaine, to protect his fragile heart, but somehow he always knows where he is, can always see him in his peripheral vision. The upside is it makes it easier to avoid him. The downside is it makes him miss him, his presence being a constant reminder of what he thought they had.

After rehearsal, Nick and Jeff escorts Kurt to the dining hall, without any dilly dally. He hasn't eaten a proper meal in a week, going by on water, fruit and nutrition bars. Nick takes Kurt to a table on the far end of where they usually sit, while Jeff picks up food for all of them. He comes back with a lasagne covered in melted cheese and a salad drowned in ranch dressing.

"I can't eat this," Kurt sulks.

"You can and you will," Nick scolds. "You haven't had a real meal in days; you can stand gaining some fat on your bones. Eat."

It takes forever for Kurt to finish the greasy food, but the couple won't let him leave until his plate is finished. Then they even manhandle him to have a piece of brownie and a cup of coffee for dessert.

They escort him back to Nick's room.

"What's going on, Kurt? You worry us. You don't seem to get over this on your own, it's about time you let us in to help you," Nick says, sitting in his bed. Kurt is resting on the roommate's bed, and Jeff has gone back to his own room, hoping Kurt will more easily talk with as small an audience as possible.

"It's… I'm…" He looks desperate and hopeless at Nick, not knowing which words to choose.

"I'm going to guess this has to do with Blaine, seeing how you're avoiding him, lashing out on him, and refusing to share a bathroom with him."

Kurt nods hesitantly.

"What did he do?"

"Why do you assume he did something?"

"Because I know you, and I know him. You would feel too guilty if you had done something to him, and you don't seem remorse, but in pain. Blaine has all the best intentions in the world, but sometimes he's too gully and stuck in his own bubble, and ends up screwing up, badly."

Kurt snorts at the descriptions, although some of it fits with the topography. A part of him wants to be angry with Blaine for hurting him, and another part of him realizes he's the only one to blame.

"Actually, I'm the cause for my own misery," Kurt sighs.

"At least it should be fairly easy to fix, then?"

Kurt shakes his head sadly. "Not yet. I… My heart bleeds."

"What happened, Kurt? You seemed perfectly fine on New Year's Eve. You seemed happy to be back the first night here. You seemed eager to get the semester started next morning. But then after Warblers you did a complete 180."

Kurt studies his hands in his lap. He can feel Nick's eyes on him.

"Did something happen that day? Did anyone say or do anything to you? Did someone give you trouble for being close to Blaine? Is that why you're avoiding him? You remember the Dalton policy, don't you? You have to tell us, we'll help you!" Nick is so insistent and sincere in his voice, and has crossed the room to kneel next to Kurt.

Kurt looks teary-eyed at him.

"I lost the best I've ever had…"

"What do you mean, Kurt?"

Kurt swallows thickly.

"I got to know it's all a charade. I've tried to make fairytales come true. Again."

"What's the charade, sweetie?"

"Blaine's my Secret Santa," Kurt sobs, and Nick instinctively wraps the boy up in his arms.

So many thoughts are running through Nick's mind, he doesn't even know where to begin. He wants to both slap and comfort the boy; luckily he decides to go with the latter for now. Kurt seems to be holding on to all kinds of misconceptions, making himself miserable for some reason.

When Kurt falls asleep in his arms, Nick sends a text to Blaine. He is balancing on that edge carefully, not wanting to break Kurt's trust, but wanting to help Blaine who is also a good friend, and clearly hurting from all of this whatever it is.

_We're making progress; he seems to be cracking up. Please give him air, he's choking himself._

* * *

Somehow, Kurt manages to finish all his classes without fading off too often. Rehearsal is cancelled because of the upcoming weekend and the Warblers' need to pack their stuff. Nick and Jeff order a pizza, and force feed Kurt. He knows he'll have to talk more, today.

"Do you consider me a friend?" Nick asks him, seemingly from nowhere.

"Of course I do," Kurt says, smiling at him.

It's one of the first smiles they've seen on his face the last week.

"Good. You're my friend too. I thought so way before Christmas, and I think we've gotten even closer by now."

Kurt nods to show he's listening, but he's not sure where Nick's going with this.

"Do you think our friendship was affected by you being my Secret Santa?"

Kurt looks dumbly at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think we would be the same persons and have the same friendship, if you hadn't been my Secret Santa?"

He has to think for a while before he answers, not feeling confident he understands what Nick's going for.

"I guess it gave me a motivation to spend more time with you, getting to know you even better."

"Would you consider that a good thing?"

"Of course," Kurt smiles softly.

"And do you still want to be my friend?"

Kurt nods eagerly.

"Good. I really want to be your friend as well."

They smile at each other, and Kurt's impulsive streak makes him hug the other boy.

"Now that is settled, I really don't understand why you're so upset Blaine was your Secret Santa," Nick says solemnly, and Kurt gets it, there's his punch line. At least it feels like a punch to his gut.

Kurt sighs, takes a deep breath, and tries to explain himself.

* * *

"No. Absolutely no. Eternally no. Nuhu, not gonna happen."

"But Nick," Kurt whines. "I honestly do believe I should stay away from the Warblers this weekend."

"Kurt," Nick says sternly. "I'm gonna be level with you. First of all, you do not want to approach the wrath of the Council to tell them less than 24 hours before departure that their precious countertenor won't be attending this important and_ mandatory_ weekend. Secondly, I understand you're still hesitant to spending time with Blaine, but there are other Warblers you can hang out with me. Like Jeff and I, for instance. Thirdly, I know you feel embarrassed by all this, but this is high school, someone has to provide for the drama and screw ups. Now was your turn. And fourth… No, I think that was it. You are tagging along this weekend."

Kurt puts on an offended face.

"It feels like you're babysitting me."

"Well, grow up and snap out of it, and we'll see if we'll grant you some independence," Nick scolds.

He instantly regrets it when he sees Kurt's face fall.

"Kurt…" he says intently, holding the boy's shoulders. "I just have a hard time understanding how you can be so confident in some situations, but when it comes to Blaine you lose all self-esteem. Why is it easier to believe that he's only ever spending time with you because a silly game told him to, when I can give you a thousand examples on why that's false – starting with the fact that you have been attached by the hip since the first time you met, a long time before the stupid Secret Santa was even introduced!"

"Maybe… Maybe I've been forcing myself on him, and now he finally has a way out," Kurt whispers.

"Kurt, for the love of anything fashionable – would you at least give Blaine the chance to decide for himself if he wants out, instead of pushing him away?" Nick finally shrieks, coming to his wits end on how to convince Kurt that Blaine sees him as more than a pity project. "Djeezes, you should be talking with him, not me, over this."

"I can't," Kurt shakes his head. "I've hurt and upset him, he's probably pissed at me, and I'm just too embarrassed and mortified. I've… It's too late; I've lost him."

Nick sighs deeply, and steps out of the bed, deciding to put on a movie. He doesn't think he can do anything more for Kurt right now. He honestly needs to snap out of it, and preferably talk with Blaine. Nick crosses his fingers it'll be impossible for Kurt to avoid Blaine the entire weekend, as he inserts his _Brokeback Mountain_-DVD in the player. It's not like Kurt is in the mood for a comedy now, anyway.

* * *

**Authors note:**

The poem Todd Anderson recites and is given framed, to Nick from Kurt:

_I close my eyes and this image floats beside me  
__A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brains  
__His hands reach out and choke me  
__And all the time he's mumbling  
__Mumbling "Truth is like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold".  
__You push it, stretch it, it will never be enough  
__You kick it beat it, it'll never cover any of us.  
__From the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying,  
__it will just cover your face  
__as you wail and cry and scream._

If anyone wants to see the signs Blaine got from Kurt for Christmas, you should be able to find them on eBay if you search for vintage coffee signs. That's where I/Kurt found them.

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Janis Joplin – _Stay With Me _(several artists have done this little piece of desperation, but I imagine Blaine taking an inspirational leaf from the legendary Joplin)

Maroon 5 - _Misery_


	30. Warbler Weekend

**Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, you make me feel so happy and appreciated! And thank you to those of you who just reads, that's nice too. It's amazing to see the numbers of followers, favourited and reviews increasing for each chapter I publish!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. **

* * *

"Oh Toto, I don't think we're in Westerville anymore…" Kurt gasps.

The cabin where the Warblers are spending their kick off workshop is called _The Château_. True, the Council warned them it's primitive, but with such a name Kurt still had great expectations. He knows how some of the boys live, and how they're used to their luxury. Thanks to Nick and Jeff, Kurt had begun to look forward to this weekend. They had pestered him all day, whenever they could catch a break in or between classes, and told him about earlier Warbler Weekend's. They'd talked about hotel stays, gourmet food, midnight dips in hot tubs, legendary parties, motivational speeches from alumni Warblers, intense practices led by a gavel-crazy Wes, and a lot of fun.

OK, he's still heartbroken and doesn't know how to talk with Blaine anymore, but there are 13 other Warblers he can socialize with. And anyway, they are here to prepare for Regionals, not just partying.

Kurt had offered to drive his Navigator. It's a sturdy four wheel drive who can cope on the narrow and poor roads they have been warned about. He had demanded Nick sit in front with him. Jeff and Trent had taken the seats in the back. Blaine hadn't even tried to ride with Kurt, but slouched in the backseat of David's car.

Five cars brimmed with Warblers, luggage, and a vast amount of unidentified Council-stuff had left Dalton together, to go on this road trip. Their destination is Shawnee State Forest, a two and a half hours long drive from Dalton.

In his mind, Kurt had imagined their location for the weekend being something looking worthy of the name "The Castle". Judging by first impression, this seems to not be the case.

The cars are stopped in front of a snow covered parking lot. Nobody seems to have been there to plough it, and some of the drivers are debating whether it's wise to try parking there, or if they should just leave the cars by the side of the narrow road.

Kurt's car is sturdy with hopefully enough reach to the ground, so he decides to give it a go. The snow has powder quality and is easy to drive through, so he easily navigates in the parking lot.

When everybody has decided where to leave their cars and have gotten their bags out, Wes points towards a path – or what Kurt assumes is a path, as it's covered in snow. But there's a narrow barren strip between the trees and bushes, leading up, up, up a steep hill. The Council walks first, with flashlights, and most of the guys take out the phones to use the light app to see where they are going.

The Council leads them about 500 metres, before they stop on a plateau with a nice clearing. Two buildings, all dark and difficult to get an impression of, are faced towards each other, one of them noticeably smaller than the other.

"OK, this is where we're staying for the weekend," Wes exclaims happily, and rummages his pockets for the key. "Blaine, Seth, Cameron, and Trent, please help me carry up food and equipment from the car. Kurt, Nick, and Jeff, please help David getting the fire started. The rest of you report to Thad for other assignments. We need to crank up the generator for electricity, someone has to start fixing us dinner, a room for rehearsals needs to be cleared out, and yeah, let's get settled," he yells excitedly.

"What is this?" Kurt mutters silently to Nick and Jeff, shocked about how primitive this cabin turns out to be.

"I'm sure it'll be… quaint. Come on, let's help David, I bet the cabin is cold," Nick sighs.

His prediction is unfortunately correct, and nobody wants to take off their coats, hats and scarves in the freezing building.

"We have a big fire place in the main room, and smaller stoves in some of the bedrooms. We better get the fire cracking as soon as possible."

David gives the three boys a quick tour of the cabin, so they know where they need to put in some effort. David hasn't been there before, though, so he's a mixture of tour guide and adventurer.

As soon as they enter the cabin, the kitchen is to their left, and a bedroom to the right. Straight ahead is a big living room, where the other boys have already begun to separate it in two. In the half closest to the fire place they're making sitting groups for the meals. The other half will be for practices, and Kurt is surprised to see there's actually a piano there. He briefly wonders what unfortunate soul thought it was a good idea to bring a piano up that steep path.

In the hallway by the entrance, creaky stairs leads up to second floor, with a low ceiling. Three bedrooms are lined next to each other. There's a stove in one of the rooms, and the bedroom on the first floor.

"I wish they had put up more chimneys, so there were stoves in each room," Jeff mutters.

"Don't worry; I'll keep you warm," Nick grins.

"Oh God," Kurt groans, "let me sleep in the car!"

"Come on, guys, let's get this cabin heated," David hurries them down the stairs again.

"Umm, David? Where's the bathroom?" Kurt asks. Surely they've opened every door, he can't have missed a room?

"I'll show you," David winks, "come along."

He leads them outside again, and Kurt is more than confused. He shoots Nick and Jeff some exaggerated looks, but they don't seem to know what's going on either.

David doesn't stop until he's in front of the smaller building, 200 feet from the main building. They stare at two doors.

"To the left, you have the wood shed, where we'll get the fire wood, so pump those biceps and start loading. To the right, you find the toilet."

Kurt hesitantly opens the door to the right, and his biggest fear is confirmed. They only have an outhouse for the entire weekend. Something that looks like a tall wooden bench with a circled opening and a lid will be their facilities. There's no toilet paper, and Kurt dearly hopes that's among the supplies the Council has brought. Some gossip magazines that seems to be at least ten years old, considering the headlines on the cover, is stacked on the floor. And the wall across the latrine is covered in pictures of past presidents. Either nobody's been here for quite a while, or they haven't found a decent picture of president Obama yet.

"Come on guys, the fire won't light itself."

They carry as much fire wood as they possibly can, and head back to the cabin to start the fire in the fire places. They'll have to bring in more wood, but at least this is a start. Neither of them are smokers, but luckily the Council has brought plenty of matches.

Not long after, flames are licking up the walls of the fire place and stoves, and the boys concentrate on getting more wood inside.

Thad can tell them the water pipes are frozen. There seems to be no actual damage, except they don't have any water. So the kitchen crew begins to melt snow for dinner and coffee. Kettles with snow are set to thaw both on the fireplaces and on all the plates of the oven. The Council has brought some water bottles, in case of emergency, but not enough for the entire weekend.

Kurt is working on the fire on the second floor, and David comes by to see how he's doing.

"It's burning well, so we'll only have to make sure to keep it alive," Kurt explains.

"That's great. And how are you, Kurt?"

"I feel like a dragon," Kurt mumbles.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's a weird sensation to huff and puff at the embers, and suddenly they explode to flames. It makes me feel like a dragon," Kurt smiles absentmindedly, starring into the fire.

"You have a wicked mind," David chuckles. "So, when you're not embodying a big, flame throwing reptile, how are you really doing?

"What do you mean?" Kurt asks guarded.

"You're not invisible, Kurt. We've seen you this week, you know. We've also noticed how little we've seen of you."

"I've been busy," Kurt shrugs.

"Please don't lie to me."

"Are you here as a council member?"

"Wouldn't it be convenient, if I told you to fess up because all the Warblers need to work hard this weekend, and our lead singer seems to be distracted?"

Kurt stares into the fire, not saying a word.

"Kurt, I want to be here primarily as your friend. I'm worried about you."

He finally looks at David, and a lonely tear is rolling down Kurt's cheek.

"That's nice of you, David, but you don't have to worry."

"But I do. You seem sadder and more beaten down now than you did when we first met you. And that's saying something."

"I'm just being stupid," Kurt sighs.

"It's not stupid if it hurts you," David objects.

"You're too kind," Kurt smiles sadly.

"Kurt, Kurt!" Jeff barges in the room. "The Floo network seems to be broken, so Thad sent me up to let you know dinner is ready."

The three boys scurry downstairs, and sit down with the rest of the Warblers to enjoy the spaghetti Bolognese.

* * *

After dinner, the Council gives the boys 15 minutes to split up in rooms, get out of uniform (optional, but who would want to stay another minute in those clothes?) and get ready for rehearsal.

Blaine looks sadly at Kurt, before stepping into the bedroom downstairs, with the rest of the Council. Kurt crawls up the stairs with his stuff. His steps feel heavy. It may be because his stone heart has crashed somewhere close to his toes.

Niff invite him to their room, promising to keep it PG. Kurt doesn't laugh, and Jeff unfolds from the bag he's rummaging through to find some other clothes. He takes one quick look at Kurt, and reaches him with three long steps to engulf him in a warm hug. He doesn't say anything, to which Kurt is grateful. He lets out his breath shakily, but doesn't feel the need to cry. He's just so… tired. Lonely. Sad. Heartbroken.

Jeff ends the hug, smiles encouragingly, and Nick takes command, assigning them their bunk beds.

With only one bathroom – and that being of the outdoor kind, all kinds of shyness have to be stuffed away from the weekend. Still, without saying it out loud, the boys change their clothes with their backs to each other. Or, Kurt assumes Nick and Jeff aren't really modest around each other, but he keeps his eyes away from them and them him. Kurt doesn't feel comfortable in dressing situations, and never has.

So he quickly gets out of his uniform, slides into a pair of black pants – not the most slim fitting in case there will be dancing, leg warmers, because the cabin is still cold, a red shirt, and his crème diagonally hemmed turtle neck sweater.

He hurries downstairs, and his eyes immediately land on Blaine. It's as if the boy is some kind of magnetic field his eyes can't avoid. Kurt hates it. He hates how the boy still affects him, he hates that he won't get over his feelings anytime soon, he hates that they aren't talking, he hates that he doesn't know what to say to Blaine, he hates that he feels so hurt, and he hates that Blaine is looking so ridiculously good. Red pants, a black shirt and bowtie – subtle, but of course Kurt can still see it, and a crème thick knitted sweater that looks so soft and cosy Kurt wants to drown in it. And damn, they are colour matched. How cliché. How idiotic.

Nick's gentle hand on his lower back makes him defreeze, and they find a seat in the rehearsal assigned part of the living room.

The Council quickly sets down some ground rules – no alcohol tonight, party tomorrow - informs them about meals, pins a list to the kitchen door where all of the Warblers are divided in smaller groups responsible for one meal each, and then encourages them all to come with song suggestions. But for tonight, they already have the rehearsal program ready.

"I know this may be difficult for those of you who are very much stuck with Top 40," Wes grins and glances over at Blaine, "but we want to try something from 1985. Ooohh," Wes laughs with a ghost's voice and makes scary hands.

"We believe this song will give us some nice challenges with the harmonies and sound walls we have as trademark, so we want you to give this an honest try," David continues.

"The Council hasn't prepared any sheet music for it, as we'd like to improvise around it. You know what voices you usually do. You'll get the lyrics, but Blaine will be doing most of that as the lead. We'll let him run through it a couple of times to give you a feel of the song, and then split up in groups to work on everything else," Thad says, and hands out a stack of paper with the lyrics.

Kurt takes one sheet from the stack Jeff hands him, and sends the rest to Cameron.

"_Take on me_," he mutters. "I hope we have a lot of synth voices."

The Council produces a cordless CD-player, and plays through the song once. The second time, Blaine does his best to join A-HA with the lyrics.

"We have the instrumental version as well. Blaine, would you give it a try?"

Blaine nods, and gets up from his chair to stand by the ever-present Council-table.

"_We're talking away. I don't know what I'm to say. I'll say it anyway. Today's another day to find you Shying away. I'll be coming for your love, OK?_"

Blaine's eyes are boring into Kurt's brain, and Kurt has to force his head in another direction to avoid him. He doesn't know what this means, he doesn't know if Blaine is trying to say anything, he doesn't know if he's reading too much into this, he doesn't know if Blaine is trying to communicate with him at all.

"_Take on me. Take me on! I'll be gone, In a day or two."_

The words hit Kurt right in the chest and the toes, where his heart is shattered and spread around. His throat thickens, and he knows it's true. He's already lost some of Blaine, and if it isn't already too late he'll lose all of Blaine as well. If he wants to fix this, he has to act fast. But does he want to fix this? Does he know how to fix this? Kurt's so confused, and god, this is giving him a headache.

"_So needless to say, I'm odds and ends. But I'll be Stumbling away, Slowly learning that life is OK. Say after me: 'It's no better to be safe than sorry'._"

Kurt can kind of understand that Blaine is confused. Kurt's confused too. And that stumbling, that goes for the both of them. Sure, life will be OK eventually, but in the meantime it hurts as hell. A shiver runs down Kurt's spine. Why does it feel as if it'll be wrong, no matter what he does in this situation?

Blaine repeats the chorus, and his high falsetto makes goose bumps erupt on Kurt's skin, and he has to look away. In a day or two. Is that his deadline?

The Warblers spend the rest of the night rehearsing the song, trying to figure out their sounds and effects. The only interruptions are when somebody remembers to add more logs on the fires in the different rooms.

When the Council finally calls it a day, Kurt decides to go to bed immediately. He just doesn't want to be in close proximity of Blaine at the moment. Several other of the Warblers head for bed as well, saying something about recharging their batteries and prepare for tomorrow's party. Kurt's never been to a real party with these guys, and wonders what he should expect.

* * *

The next morning Kurt wakes up early, shivering and teeth clacking. It's awfully cold, and he debates for a minute whether to bury himself deeper in his sleeping bag, or get up to light the fire downstairs. Remembering he's on breakfast duty, he goes for the second option. He puts on whatever warm clothes he's packed, so he can run to the latrine and relieve his blather.

Kurt inwardly groans when he sees the Council has set him up for breakfast duty together with Blaine. He'd forgotten about that. He's pretty sure they've done it deliberately. Luckily, Blaine is nowhere to be seen yet, and maybe Kurt will be able to finish breakfast before he arrives. It's still almost an hour until the boys should be up.

He starts the coffee maker, 'cause no way can he do anything sensible without caffeine in his body. While it brews, he messes with the fire place in the living room to make it roar and thaw him.

One cup of black, steaming liquid later, he's good to go. Kurt's never made breakfast for 15 people before, but it doesn't take him long to settle down with a plan. They have orange juice and coffee to drink, he only needs to melt more water and brew the coffee. The Council has filled the fridge with a lot of food, and Kurt decides to scramble 60 eggs. It should be enough. Bacon can be fried in the oven. That way, it'll be less for him to control and pay attention to. The bread needs to be sliced. If he's got any time left, he'll even slice some apples. He hums pleased with himself, and starts whisking some of the eggs he'll use.

"Mmm, the coffee smells heavenly," someone says in a sleepy voice behind him, and Kurt stiffens. He knows that voice.

"Oh…" the voice says, recognizing who's in the kitchen.

"Breakfast duty," Kurt explains without turning around, and whisks ferociously.

"Me too," Blaine says. "Do you mind if I...?" His voice trails off, never finishing the sentence.

His hands responds before his brain, and Kurt finds himself filling a mug with coffee and handing it to Blaine. He refills his own mug, to prevent his hands going idle.

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs, trying to catch Kurt's eyes, but he looks away.

They both take large sips, even though it's far too hot to drink that quickly. But at least it prevents them from acknowledging the other for a minute or two.

"Kurt…" Blaine eventually whispers.

"No," Kurt warns him, and holds up a hand as if to physically stop him. "Not now."

"Then when?" Blaine squeaks, sounding pained.

_When it stops hurting!_ Kurt wants to scream.

"We need to make breakfast," he says instead.

Blaine nods, looking resigned, but doesn't say anything.

Wordlessly, he begins slicing the bread.

"Umm, I thought maybe we could toast it in the oven for a couple of minutes, to make it crispier and tastier," Kurt says hesitantly.

"That's a good idea," Blaine smiles softly.

The kitchen is small, and Blaine's arm brushes against Kurt's back when he stretches over to turn on the oven. A shiver runs down Kurt's spine, and he feels a tingling sensation where Blaine barely touched him. He misses being close to Blaine that way, but he can't.

They work silently together with the food. It's not exactly comfortable, but the air isn't thick with tension either. It's the most relaxed Kurt's been around Blaine since after the first Warbler meeting this year.

* * *

The day has been long and intense, with singing and dancing, slaving under Wes' scrutiny, repeating and repeating, testing new things, changing minor details for a greater result, and so on. Finally the Council decides to have mercy with their songbirds, and it's time for the alcohol and party music.

The boys bring out snacks, beer, booze and fun. Within ten minutes, the party is organized and the first bottles emptied. Kurt is sweaty and cranky, and could kill for a long, hot shower. It makes him think about the last rehearsal weekend the Warblers pulled, back at Dalton, where Kurt blackmailed Wes into letting Blaine and he take a shower for a new hint on the whereabouts of the hidden gavel. Alas, no blackmailing can help him now, stranded in the woods without a proper bathroom. But, he needs some fresh air, so he decides to leave the boys for a while to clear his head.

He doesn't see how Blaine watches him sadly as he disappears out the door.

Kurt carefully walks down the narrow path, which is more obvious today after most of them went up and down several times yesterday, to unload the cars. There really aren't any good options for him to go for a walk, so he decides to just stroll along the main road. At least he won't get lost; he can turn around whenever and find the parking lot without problems.

It's nice to walk like this in the cold air. It's airily silent, and it gives his mind some well needed rest, and it makes it easier to concentrate if he wants to. He's messed up, badly, with Blaine. He may have overreacted. There's a nagging insecurity left in him, though, that won't let go, and suspects he still may be right. What if Blaine's only been friendly because of the Secret Santa? Or because he pities Kurt? Kurt's told him so much about himself, but he really doesn't know much about Blaine. And if you don't give of yourself, doesn't that mean you're really not invested in the friendship? Or you don't trust the other person to let him in? No matter how Kurt looks at this, he's fooled himself to believe there's more between the two of them than it really is. It's embarrassing, humiliating, hurting. He wants to be angry with Blaine, but he may be angrier with himself. He doesn't know if he should yell or apologize to Blaine. They should talk. They should. But by God it'll be awkward. And not something they should try doing this weekend. Later. Maybe in another life.

Kurt groans and turns around. His mind is so clustered with thoughts and feelings; he doesn't know what to do anymore. When did things start being so complicated? When Kurt found out the truth, that's when. Ignorance is bliss, indeed.

He climbs the steep path back to the cabin. He isn't feeling particularly less sweaty or cranky than when he left, but the fresh air did wonders on the now non-existent headache. That's something, at least.

The party is on full swing, and Kurt is surprised to see how drunk everyone's gotten while he's been gone. He checks his phone, and realizes he was out walking for almost an hour. Music is blasting from the speakers, and a garbage bag is already half filled with empty cups and bottles. There are more snacks on the table and the floor than in the bowls they started out from.

On the table is also a Blaine, looking really wasted and happy. He's dancing and singing to something Kurt doesn't immediately recognize, and someone skips to the next track before he can identify it.

"_I wanna see your peacock-cock-cock, your peacock-cock!_" Blaine hardly misses a beat, and belts out the song with such eagerness it's _almost_ endearing. Almost, if he hadn't been strutting around on top of one of the tables, shimmying and shouting cock.

He turns at the end of the table and dances back to the other end, skipping and twirling, shaking his bootie and clearly enjoying himself, to great amusement from the other Warblers cheering him on. When he spots Kurt leaning against the wall and watching half entertained half embarrassed on his behalf, Blaine drops down from the table, landing far too elegant for someone as drunk as he is, and sashays over to Kurt.

"_Are you brave enough to let me see your peacock?_" he sings, and Kurt just knows he's crimson from top to toe. "_Come on, baby, let me see what you're hiding underneath_," he sings right into Kurt's ear, and he's standing way too close for Kurt to be able to breathe normally.

Kurt puts his hands on Blaine's chest to push him away, but that's not how Blaine takes it. He grabs the boy around his waist, and drags him away from the wall and unto the floor. Blaine takes Kurt's hand and twirls him away and automatically Kurt spins back, still holding Blaine's hand. He catches Kurt on the return, the other hand resting on his hip, and he holds the boy firmly against his own body, Kurt's back pressed to Blaine's chest.

"_I want the jaw dropping eye popping, head turning, body shocking_," he sings. "_I want my heart throbbing, ground shaking, show stopping amazing_."

Blaine's holding him firmly by the hips, grinding against Kurt, swinging his own hips, and Kurt doesn't know what to do with his own hands, he doesn't know how to get out of this, he doesn't know if he wants to get out of this. He's leaning against Blaine's chest, but tries to maintain some space between his ass and Blaine's body. He lets Blaine move him around on the floor while wondering where his brain disappeared.

Some of the observant Warblers are giving them cat calls, and Kurt is having a hard time deciding if this is purely mortifying, or if he's enjoying himself a bit as well.

The song comes to an end, and Kurt tries to steady himself and gain his balance back after the dancing, the head rush, and the traitorous butterflies that sprung to life.

"You know what's so funny about singing about a peacock?" Blaine whispers in Kurt's ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Kurt shakes his head, fighting to breath. It's… interesting getting to know drunken Blaine.

"'Cause I've to pee," Blaine giggles. "Get it? Peacock, peecock?"

Blaine lets go of Kurt, and stumbles off, leaving the boy bewildered on the middle of the floor. Kurt takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady his heart. He knows it's stupid to be affected like that; it's so obvious Blaine is drunk, but he still has to calm himself down after that show. Watching dapper Blaine dance so suggestively, being pressed up against him, whispering in his ear, singing that stupid song to Kurt. Yeah, it feels juvenile, but Kurt is after all just a boy.

Kurt decides it's coffee time, and goes to the kitchen to brew some.

"That was quite the show," Nick snickers, having obviously followed Kurt into the otherwise empty kitchen. "I still think I'm right and you're wrong. There's nothing platonic between the two of you."

"Let it rest, Nick," Kurt bites him off, not wanting to discuss it, especially not with someone not sober.

"I haven't even finished my first beer, you can talk to me," Nick says gently, as if he was reading Kurt's mind. "Jeff's had more, but you can still talk to me."

"We all know what kind of attention whore performer-Blaine can be, and he's obviously somewhat of a horny drunk as well, and I'm the only not taken gay here, so there's your explanations," Kurt sighs.

"Oh Kurt," Nick coos, closing the distance between them with a few long steps, and gives Kurt a warm hug. "I wish you'd talk to him and get this misunderstanding cleared up. Don't you remember what I told you?"

"I do, but I still think you're wrong. We all know how polite and kind Blaine is, and I've been making everything up in my head. Again." Kurt is fighting back tears. He doesn't want to be the one that ends up crying in the kitchen, especially not when he's the only one sober.

Nick tightens the hug.

"Don't forget we've known Blaine for a long time, and we know what his normal behaviour is and what isn't. There's something special between the two of you."

"We were best friends, and you know that. I just hope we can be that again, when my heart has healed."

Nick sighs, realizing he won't make any progress with Kurt tonight.

"Why don't you come sit with me and Jeff, we're hogging one of the couches. You don't have to see or talk anymore to Blaine tonight, and I promise to chase him away if he tries to give you a lap dance or whatever he may be inclined to do, OK?"

"Are you and Jeff going to make out all night?"

"No, sweetie, we're saving that for after the lights go out," Nick winks. He pecks Kurt on the forehead, and takes his hand, leading him out of the kitchen and back to Jeff.

Kurt has been called sweetie by Nick a couple of times now, and he realizes he actually likes it. He's been given a lot of nicknames during the years, none of them he likes, so it's nice to be given a nice name for a chance.

Nick is also becoming more and more affectionate with Kurt – not only after a beer at a party. Kurt assumes it's because they're getting to know the other better day by day, and maybe the Secret Santa brought them closer. It doesn't feel romantic or sexual, and it doesn't wake the butterflies. They're just nice, appreciated gestures from a friend.

Nick doesn't let go of Kurt's hand until they are by Jeff's couch. He's draped all over it to make sure nobody steals Nick's seat

"Hey lover, I'm back," Nick purrs, and kisses his boyfriend sloppily on the mouth. He then drops down on the couch, yanking Kurt with him and making sure the boy ends up between him and Jeff.

"See? Now we can't make out and reduce you to the fifth wheel. Unless we make out on top of you, in which case you shouldn't need to feel excluded," Nick laughs and winks at Kurt.

"I'd rather you don't," Kurt smiles coyly, but laughs.

"So, I was under the impression the Warblers Weekends are grand and luxurious. What happened?" Kurt asks, gesturing around in the primitive cabin.

"I haven't got the faintest idea," Nick shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. "I hardly believe it has to do with money, as it's always been flowing, and the administration would always cater with more if we so should need."

"Do you remember when we rented out the penthouse in that hotel in Columbus?" Jeff sighs. "I loved that Jacuzzi. And Trent got a craving for shrimps, and ordered it at 3 AM. His 4 AM purging was really gross, though…" Jeff downs a big chunk of his unidentified drink, shrugging at the memory. Or the taste. How should Kurt know?

"How much did you really get to sing during these weekends?" Kurt asks jokingly, because all he ever hears about are stories from their parties and fun.

"Come to think about it, we didn't exactly do a lot of actual rehearsing…" Nick says slowly, downing the last of his beer. "Maybe that's why we're here. Less distractions, more singing. So typical of the Council, to ruin our fun," Nick scoffs, but winks to show he's joking.

"Why is Blaine's face red?" Jeff interrupts, pointing at their lead singer swaying awkwardly on the floor.

Kurt follows Jeff's finger, and he stiffens at the sight. It looks like it, but surely it can't be?

"I'll go ask him," Kurt says, patting a worried Jeff's shoulder.

It's too dark in the room to see properly, but as he advances on the other boy, his suspicion is confirmed.

"Blaine, what happened to you?"

Kurt tries to stay calm. Inwardly he's freaking out from the blood on Blaine's face, but he knows he won't be able to help him if he panics now.

"Was a fight," Blaine mumbles.

"Who did you fight, Blaine?"

"No no no, I don't fight, I'm good boy," Blaine mumbles and closes his eyes, leaning on Kurt's shoulder, and probably leaving blood on Kurt's sweater.

"Who did this to you, Blaine? Blaine?" Kurt lifts him up from his shoulder and shakes him to make him pay attention. Kurt can't believe any of the Warblers would start a fight, and who else can be out here with them? This has the potential to freak Kurt out even more.

"Door," Blaine mutters.

"A door did this to you?"

"Yup," he says, popping the P. "Went to pee, door got mad."

Kurt still doesn't understand what happened, but decides it's more important to clean up Blaine for the moment. He drags him into the bedroom downstairs, and shamelessly rummages through Wes' bag. He knows the Council brought a first aid kit. He finds it in David's bag.

Kurt doesn't want to leave Blaine like this, so he decides he's allowed to borrow David's towel and a water bottle as well. He moistens the towel with the water, and carefully washes off the blood trickling down from Blaine's temple to his cheek and neck. The white towel turns pink from the water and blood in no time, and Kurt feels nauseas. Being forced through first aid lessons with the Cheerios is not the same thing as actually giving someone first aid.

Kurt is somewhat relieved when he's gotten most of the blood off of Blaine's face. He's not as badly injured as it seemed at first. He had blood on half of his face, but it's his temple that's gotten most of the damage. Kurt cleans it up with the disinfectant wipes from the kit, and studies it carefully. From what he can see, it's a nasty graze, but he won't need stitching. Kurt patches it up to keep it clean and protected.

Blaine has been watching Kurt the whole time, even trying to watch the hands nursing his temple.

"How do you feel, Blaine?"

"M'dizzy. Nauseous."

Kurt wants to get to the bottom of what happened, so he tries to ask Blaine again.

"Went to pee, door got mad," the boy repeats.

Kurt tries discreetly to check if Blaine's crotch has a darker colour than the rest of the pants.

"Did you get to pee, Blaine?" Kurt asks carefully, feeling both embarrassed and intruding.

"Yup!" Blaine says proudly, obviously not bothered with Kurt's very private question. "Door dead!" he grins.

Kurt doesn't think he'll get any more intelligent answers from Blaine, so he decides to check the assumed crime scene himself.

"I'll just go out for a couple of minutes, Blaine. Will you wait for me?"

Blaine smiles and nods.

"I'll always wait for you, Kurt," he says, and for a moment he seems almost sober.

Kurt runs to the outhouse. A small light is shining on the ground, and when Kurt comes closer he can see it's a flashlight. Blaine must have brought it to see where he was going, but forgotten about it on his way back in.

Next to the flashlight is a big wooden plate. Kurt studies it for a while, letting the flashlight roam over it, and he suddenly realizes it's the door to the outhouse. It's lying right in front of the entrance, so the hinges must have given in or something, and when Blaine opened the door it fell off and hit him in the head.

Satisfied with his investigation, Kurt goes back in. They can look for tools to fix it in the daylight tomorrow, but for now it's probably safest if he'll just let it stay in the snow.

Blaine isn't in the bedroom anymore, but Kurt refuses his already wound up body to panic. The boy can't have gotten far in the few minutes Kurt was gone.

Blaine isn't in the kitchen either, but Kurt finds him in the living room, nursing a cup of something, and leaning against the wall with heavy eyes.

"I waited here," Blaine greets Kurt.

"So I see. What are you drinking?"

"Seth called it liquid courage. Is funny, 'cause I texted you a lot of courage!"

"That you did, Blaine, and I really appreciated it. But I don't think you need this now. You may have a slight concussion, you shouldn't drink anymore. Coffee and water, that's all you'll get for the rest of the night, OK?" Kurt tries to prod the cup Blaine is clutching from his fingers.

"Noooo!" Blaine whines. "Is good alcohol, don't waste it. Is mine," he says grumpily.

"Blaine, listen to me. It's dangerous, you can't drink it."

Kurt looks around in the room to see if anyone can help him with Blaine, but everyone seems to be even more wasted than Blaine. Kurt doesn't want to leave him to look for anyone upstairs. Nick and Jeff are gone, and he guesses they took the opportunity to spend some private time in the bedroom they share with Kurt.

"You know what you're doing, Kurt?" Blaine suddenly asks.

"No, Blaine, what am I doing?" Kurt answers patiently, hoping the boy will be sufficiently distracted by his own thoughts so Kurt can get the cup out of his tight grip.

"Alcohol abuse," Blaine slurs with a big nod, seemingly proud of his own conclusion.

"Tell you what, Blaine? I won't throw your drink away. We'll just leave it here on the table, and then we can go to the kitchen and make some coffee. OK? You love coffee."

"No!" Blaine shouts almost hysterically. "Nevereverever leave your drink lonely, someone'll spike it," Blaine explains with wide eyes and a scared expression.

Kurt is actually a bit impressed Blaine manages to be so sensible in this drunken state, even though he highly doubts any of the Warblers will drug each other.

"Blaine, you won't let go of your drink and you won't leave it. I won't let you drink it. Tell me what you should do with it," Kurt sighs, being at his wits end on what to do with the difficult and injured boy.

Blaine seems to be pondering for a while, before his face lights up with a mischievous smile.

"You drink it!" he says proudly, shoving the cup to Kurt's chest and almost spilling it in the process. "You never drink."

"OK," Kurt says and downs the content before Blaine can change his mind and take it back. It tastes foul and burns his throat, but at least it can't harm Blaine anymore. In afterthought, Kurt wonders if maybe he shouldn't have done it, in case they need someone to drive tonight. Hopefully the cup won't affect him too much, and he can continue keeping an eye on the boy.

"Come on, Blaine, now we can leave the cup, and I'll make you coffee." Kurt slips his arm around Blaine's waist to lead him to the kitchen. Hopefully there's something left of the coffee he started making earlier.

"You're bossy," Blaine whines. "That's mean."

"Yeah, I love being mean, it gives me so much joy," Kurt drawls.

"You're mad at me. You've avoided me all week," Blaine pouts, and Kurt is so not willing to have that conversation right now.

"I'm not mad at you, I just needed some alone-time. Some me-time," he says, as if he's talking to a child.

"Why do you hate me? I need some Kurt-time too," Blaine says so sadly Kurt wonders if he'll start crying.

"I don't hate you. I just… I love myself more," Kurt says, not wanting to explain how he's been trying to protect himself from more heartbreak.

"Do you love me too, Kurt?"

"Sure," Kurt sighs. "Let's elope."

"Good. Oh, wait, wait, I got it!" Blaine says excitedly, jumping up and down, until he stumbles in his own feet, and has to lean heavily on Kurt. "That was sarcasm," Blaine grins.

"Ding, ding, ding, you're right, congratulations," Kurt says with his most snarky voice.

"I won!" Blaine shouts. "What did I win?" He starts jumping again, so Kurt uses his height advance to push the boy down in a chair by the shoulders.

"Endless amounts of coffee," he says, serving Blaine the first mug.

"Awesome," Blaine whispers, and starts sipping at the hot liquid.

Kurt spends the rest of the evening with Blaine, doing everything he can to help him stay awake. As the alcohol wears off, Blaine grows silent, but Kurt awkwardly chats on and on about nothing in particular to prevent him from falling asleep. He takes Blaine out so the cold air can freshen up Blaine's brain. He talks about how he'd redesign the Dalton uniforms to make them more fashionable. He prods Blaine into talking about earlier performances with the Warblers. Kurt talks about drama and memories with his friends in the New Direction, and it stings a little, but it's also easy to talk about for a long time, entertaining Blaine and most importantly keeping him awake.

When Blaine gets sick and runs outside to vomit, Kurt is there to help him. He uses a shovel to hide the evidence with snow, and he moistens a towel Blaine can wash his mouth and face with. He pours endless amounts of coffee and water in him.

Some of the Warblers have already passed out, and don't notice what's going on. Seth whistles obnoxiously at them, obviously thinking they're having a private soiree in the kitchen. Wes and David come by, and are startled by Blaine's band-aid on his forehead. They are sober enough to admit they are drunk enough to not be of any useful help, and is grateful for Kurt being there.

"I'm tired," Blaine slurs, and Kurt isn't sure if it is from the alcohol or from the need for sleep.

"I know, Blaine, I'm too."

He studies Blaine carefully. He can't be sure if he has a concussion or not, and doesn't want to risk anything.

"You can sleep for a couple of hours, but then I have to wake you up to make sure everything's alright."

Blaine nods in what Kurt assumes is agreement, and takes Kurt's hand by surprise, yanking him jerkily towards the bedroom. Seth returns from the bathroom break, and catcalls wiggling his eyebrows at the two boys. Kurt doesn't dignify it with an answer.

Without changing clothes, Blaine crawls into his sleeping bag. In the bright light from the lamp on the bedside table Kurt gets a clear view of the other boy's face, and his forehead and right temple have bruised somewhat in the meantime. He ghosts his index finger over the purple-yellow-greenish marks, making Blaine wince.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs softly. "Does it hurt?"

"Of course it does; you're touching it," Blaine scoffs, and Kurt has to hide a smile. Cranky Blaine is a new Blaine.

"I'm sorry," Blaine says softly, hardly slurring anymore. Of course dapper Blaine would apologize for something like that.

"Go to sleep; I'll wake you up in a couple of hours," Kurt says, ignoring the boy's apologetic eyes.

Blaine's arm shoots out from his sleeping bag, catching Kurt by the wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"To my bed?" Kurt asks confused.

"Sss… Stay?" he asks hesitantly, looking so lost and vulnerable.

Kurt considers the suggestion. It would be more practical to sleep here, instead of crawling down and up the stairs again, probably waking up some Warblers in the process.

"Whose bed is this?" Kurt asks, pointing at the other bottom bed of the two bunks.

"David. But you could…" Blaine suggests, scooting over closer to the wall.

"No. Just no," Kurt says sternly. He will not share a bed with Blaine now. "I'll be right back; I'll go get my sleeping bag."

He hurries up to the room he shares with Niff, and makes a detour to the living room to explain to David why he's taking his bed. David pats him on the shoulder, gives him a thumb up, and continues to jump like a lunatic to a _Crazy Frog _song.

During the night, Kurt repeats the process of waking up Blaine twice. The second time he spots David and Wes in the bunk over him, and Thad sleeping over Blaine's head.

Waking up Blaine is easier than Kurt had expected, and he's had the dubious pleasure of hauling Blaine out of bed earlier. Tonight, though, it seems as if Blaine's being a light sleeper, despite of the blood level in his alcohol when he went to bed _and_ his possible concussion.

When Blaine shows signs of being conscious, Kurt asks him some control questions to make sure his brain is still level, before letting the boy back to sleep. He hopes he's doing the right thing. At least this is what Carole had done for Finn after he took a nasty hit in a football match, and as a nurse she should know, right? Kurt had considered calling home to check, but of course there was no reception for the phone far out in this wilderness.

"How many fingers am I holding up, Blaine?"

"Is this a trick question?" he mumbles sleepily.

"No."

Blaine squints through narrow eyes, stifling a yawn. It makes Kurt yawn as well.

"Why is yawning contagious?"

"I don't know. Fingers?"

"7."

"Good. What's my middle name?"

"Elizabeth."

"Correct. And what's yours?"

"Devon."

Kurt is silent.

"Isn't it right?" Blaine asks confused.

"I don't know; I didn't know you had a middle name. I kind of expected you to answer 'Warbler', or realize it was a trick question," Kurt whispers hesitantly.

"Huh…"

Blaine tosses and turns in his bed to get out of the sleeping bag, but ends up with the upper half of his body leaning out of the bed while he rummages his bag.

"Hah!" he grins triumphantly, showing Kurt his wallet.

"Are you going to bribe me?"

"I don't think bribing you will make Devon my name. Blaine Devon Anderson. That's me." Blaine flips through his wallet, and starts singing softly.

"_Manchester, England, England. Across the Atlantic Sea. And he's a genius, genius. I believe in God, And I believe that God, Believes in Blaine, That's me. That's me._"

One part of Kurt wants to lean over and kiss Blaine, because seriously, could he be more adorable in the middle of the night? Another part of Kurt considers having a serious conversation with Blaine about religion, because honestly – can he be this close to someone believing in God? A third and major part of Kurt wants to slap himself across the face and give himself a wedgie to snap out of it. He's not going to kiss Blaine, and he's not in a relationship with the boy.

"Aha!" Blaine exclaims triumphantly, completely unaware of Kurt's inner fight.

He shoves something in front of Kurt's eyes he can't recognize immediately. He turns on the lamp on the bedside table, and then sees what it is. Blaine's driver's license. Where his full name is stated.

"You're right, your middle name is Devon."

Blaine smiles happily, and shimmies down in his sleeping bag again.

"Night'y'night," he mumbles, almost gone already.

"Good night, Blaine," Kurt whispers, and flops down in David's bed.

The next time Kurt's alarm clock wakes him up, David jumps out of bed.

"Why don't you get back to your room to get some decent sleep, and hopefully avoid ruining all of Sunday? Wes and I've got it covered from now."

Kurt beams gratefully, and slips wordlessly out of the room. It's still only five in the morning, hopefully he can get four or five more hours of uninterrupted sleep before rehearsal.

Kurt wakes up after only a couple of hours, though. The boys are singing various songs and throwing suggestions for Regionals around. They are eager, and they are loud. It's impossible to sleep anymore, so Kurt decides to get dressed and join them. In the kitchen he fills a mug with water, and takes it outside with his toothbrush to brush his teeth. When he returns to the kitchen, Blaine is waiting for him.

"I saw you came down the stairs," he says softly.

Kurt nods and gives him a small smile, not quite sure what to expect, what Blaine remembers, and what kind of mood he's in.

"How's the head?" he asks, noticing the band aid is still there.

"Pounding, but I guess that's self inflicted."

Kurt pours himself a cup of coffee, not feeling in the mood for anything more for breakfast. He wants to leave the kitchen and get away from Blaine, but is stopped by said boy tugging at his sleeve until Kurt looks at him.

"I may be oblivious to a lot of things, but I do see you're upset with me. I wish I knew why, so I could do something to fix it."

"Blaine, can we not talk about this now?"

"I know, Kurt, this isn't the time and place. But I wanted to say how grateful I am for everything you did for me tonight. Knowing how much you've been avoiding me since we got back to school, it can't have been easy for you to stick with me for so long. I… _Thank you_, Kurt."

There's a strong insistency in his voice, along with a touch of hurt, and it pains Kurt. But he can't let him in yet, he needs to know where they stand. Blaine is fiddling with his hands, shifting on his feet, and Kurt thinks he knows him well enough to know that Blaine wants to hug him or touch him or in other ways physically express how grateful he is. But Kurt's poor heart can't take it, so he just pats Blaine on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault the door wanted to fight you. No compassionate human being would let anyone walk around with a blood covered face."

Kurt tries to leave, but Blaine holds him back again.

"Can we talk tomorrow? Or some other day, but… soon?" Blaine looks so small, and maybe Kurt isn't the only one who's hurt.

"Yeah. I think I'd like that," Kurt answers.

It's not a conversation he's particularly looking forward to, and he'll have to prepare his heart for more pain. But they need to vent and move on. It'll be impossible to share a bathroom, to board, to share classes, to sing together in Warblers, if they don't let everything out in the air.

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

A-HA – _Take on Me_

Katy Perry – _Peacock_

Hair – _Manchester England_

* * *

**AN: So, the Big Talk is coming up in the next chapter, and I wonder what my dear readers want._  
_**

**Most of my story is Kurtcentric - written from his point of view.**

**Do you want me to continue with that, or do you want Blaine to get the mic now?**

**If I give you Blaine's point of view, you might be able to get to know more about him and his thoughts than he tells Kurt. So it may spil things for you, but it may also clear up things for those of you are impatient.**

**If I continue with Kurt's point of view, we'll have to wait with him to see what happens.**

**Usually I know very well how I want to do a chapter, but my mind goes in both directions for this chapter, so I'm giving you the potential to influence the next writing.**


	31. Pandora's Box

**AN: I'm so, so sorry for this delayed update! I had a really big evaluation last weekend I had to prepare for. I thought I would be able to write on my fics in between, but I was completely drained by my cramming and pulling-my-own-hair-suffering over the books. So it took forever, and then some, to get this chapter complete. But, it's three months until my next evaluation, so I will be writing a lot in here again now. I've been missing the boys and my stories.**

**I updated my other WIP - _I Cried For You_ - earlier this week, for those interested. As I've said before - I'm not a native English speaker, so it takes some time for me to write these chapters, and I need to mull some over them as well when they are completed, to make sure I feel confident enough about uploading them.**

**Thank you to everybody for staying faithful and patient with me and my story - I'm so grateful for all my readers, and the kind people who leave me reviews and encouragement to write and continue to write. I'm blown away to see the numbers of followers, favourites, views and reviews constantly increasing - and I hope I manage to answer each and every single reviewer, that's the least I can do.**

**I really appreciate the feedback on which point-of-view you'd like for this story, and as there was a clear majority in the response, I went down the democratic path. Which was good, because I really wanted to explore Blaine more, I think he's interesting and I wanted you to know him better, at least according to how I see him here.**

**Also thank you to those of you who have suggested HOW these boys can get together - I appreciate the creativity and input, but I already have a very clear and vivid notion of how these boys will finally end up Klaine - the chapter is already written, as a matter of fact.**

**I hope this chapter is worth the wait. At least it's the longest I've ever written.**

**OBS! I haven't seen anything from season 4 yet, so PLEASE NO SPOILERS in reviews or PMs! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognize.**

* * *

Come Monday, Kurt is back sleeping in his own room, and using their shared bathroom. He shies away if Blaine needs something in the bathroom, though. Earlier, Blaine would pop in and they'd fix their hair together in front of the mirror. Kurt would tease him about his gel abuse and smile at him in the mirror. Now he flinches and hurries out, finishing in front of the big mirror Blaine gave him as a house warming present. So Blaine does his best to let him be, and finishes his hair with a pocket mirror in his room.

Kurt sits by their usual table during breakfast, but he's seated between Nick and Jeff, claiming to uphold Wes' ban on couply behaviour while eating. He never meets Blaine's eyes, and he doesn't talk to him, hardly answers when addressed, and laughs strained whenever anyone says something funny. They used to be talking a mile a minute with each other, and now nothing. It troubles Blaine, and he ends up not saying anything at all, focusing on his cereal.

When they leave the dining hall, Kurt asks how Blaine's head is, and gestures at the band-aid still covering the cut on his forehead. Blaine explains how he hardly feels anything, but the school nurse has banned him from any kind of dancing or exaggerated movements the next two days, just in case. Kurt politely says he's glad it didn't end worse, and walks off.

During their shared classes, Kurt is still silent. He is diligently taking down notes, his eyes flickering between the blackboard and his notebook. He never raises his hand to ask anything, and he doesn't share his snarky, witty comments with Blaine as he used to do.

He doesn't acknowledge Blaine whenever they pass each other in the hallway. Nick is often by his side, and Blaine catches glimpses of them talking together, or Nick giving Kurt a comforting look. A part of Blaine is glad to see Kurt has someone he can turn to, and a part of Blaine is immensely jealous. He _misses_ Kurt.

Blaine has a desire to grab a hold of the boy, kidnap him to an empty classroom, and not let Kurt out until he talks. But of course he knows that's not the way to approach Kurt. He's clammed shut, and won't open up before he's ready. So Blaine has to wait, be patient, and let Kurt come to him.

Warblers' rehearsal is cancelled today, and that's not something that happens too often. But half of the members are suffering from a serious attack of Man Flu after their Warbler Weekend. And when Blaine says suffering, that's what he means. There nobody sicker than a young man with a cold, Blaine snorts to himself. He'd seen how Seth, Cameron, Thad and Trent had been almost crawling along the walls from classroom to classroom, clutching to handkerchiefs, carrying boxes of orange flavoured pastille troches, and wrapping thick scarves around their necks whenever they left a classroom, only to unwrap them before a new class begins to still be in regulated uniforms. They had been whimpering and groaning, lying sprawled over the tables during lunch.

Blaine smiles, resting on his back in his bed, thinking about how Kurt had dealt with the boys. Sweet, compassionate, caring Kurt, who took care of his own father after the heart attack, had taken one look at the four boys, and snarkily told they should see the school nurse if they really were that close to the grave. The boys had readily agreed, and stumbled out of the dining hall. Ten minutes later they returned looking sheepishly with their metaphorical tails clutched between their legs. They didn't even run a fever, so the nurse wouldn't excuse them for the rest of the day.

Kurt had rolled his eyes to Nick and muttered something about insane boys, and maybe now they'd learn to control their idiotic spontaneity.

The comment had taken Blaine back to the cabin. Sometime on Sunday afternoon, during a particularly rough run-through with nil to no mercy from Wes, half of the boys had announced their strike – including Thad from the Council. They had in a bout if madness pealed off their clothes, except for underwear, and run out of the cabin to dive and swim in the snow. They had been making snow angels, throwing snow at each other, running around bare footed and screaming like primals, rolling in the snow, and literally embracing the cold, white powder.

Less than fifteen minutes later, they were back inside, teeth clacking and bodies shivering. But they had boosted about how healthy this was, and Trent – who always shared random facts – knew that this was a tradition in the Nordic Viking countries, to boost their masculinity, health and braveness.

"Yeah, and they are also known for their saunas where they can thaw their frozen marrow," Kurt had muttered, clearly not impressed by the lack of forward thinking.

Wes and David had ordered the almost-naked boys to get dressed, Kurt had declared he'd be brewing coffee, and some of the other boys set to work on the fire places to force the heat up.

Blaine chuckles, and remembers how Kurt had scolded the boys for their idiotic behaviour. It had warmed Blaine's heart to see Kurt feeling so comfortable and settled down among the Warblers. Until his heart had ached from their struggling friendship.

The next days continue in the same pace, although Kurt seems to be more vocal and present in their classes. Blaine gives Kurt his space, but never leaves the boy off of his radar. He just needs to know that he's doing fairly OK. He misses his best friend so, so much, and part of him thinks it hurts less to see him a little than not at all.

Kurt has Nick and Jeff, but that doesn't mean that Blaine is left alone. Wes and David, who've been there for him since he transferred to Dalton, still have his back. They check up on him now and then, and wordlessly offer their company and a listening ear if he needs to vent. At the moment, they've dragged him out into the common's room to watch TV. That's OK. Blaine can probably endure a couple of episodes with Neil Patrick Harris. Josh Radnor doesn't hurt his eyes either.

They pop in the first disc, but Blaine isn't able to focus, the scenes on the screen aren't able to catch his attention. His mind wanders off again, and drifts off in the direction of his neighbour. He really enjoys spending time with his best friend, and misses him more than he thought ever possible. His wit, his intelligence, their nice conversations, his share presence and proximity.

Blaine knows that his feelings aren't always purely friendly. He has felt butterflies in his stomach on more than one occasion, and he has caught himself several times looking for excuses to approach Kurt. He's never missed anyone as much as he missed Kurt over their winter break, and now that Kurt won't talk to him he misses him even more. He's never missed Wes, David, or any other friend like that.

He almost feels guilty for admitting to himself how glad he was when he understood Kurt had transferred to Dalton, because it's amazing to have this boy around him so much more. But it's also so difficult, because he can feel how he's getting more and more dependent on the boy, and if his feelings for Kurt are more than friendly it will be difficult to hide them.

He wishes he didn't have to hide and suppress them, but he sees no other choice. He can't be in a relationship, so he's only breaking his own heart by letting himself fall even deeper for Kurt. He has to fix whatever is broken between Kurt and him now, and then he has to reign in his emotions, and learn to appreciate their friendship, which without doubt is wonderful. Their conversations, their easy silence together, their common interests, their healthy disagreements, their hugs and cuddling, their honesty and trust with each other. What more could he ask for? Shouldn't he be happy with what he's actually got, instead of beating himself for not being able to have more?

Being such a perfect friend as Kurt already was, what more could a relationship offer, anyway? What was he missing out on? What was the difference between a best friend and a boyfriend? Sex? Would he risk everything for the hope of sex?

Blaine shakes his head to clear his mind, and shifts carefully on the couch. Don't go there, don't think about sex and Kurt in the same sentence, and especially not in front of the other guys.

His mind wanders off to Nick and Jeff, who had gone from best friends to boyfriends. As far as Blaine can see, their relationship looks nothing like the friendship they had one and a half year ago. They are more physical with gentle touches and soft kisses when they are among the other guys, and it's no secret they began their relationship with sex, and didn't stop when they became official. Blaine sees the looks they give each other, and he always sees something there that goes far beyond friendship. Thinking about it makes his heart ache, but he _can't_.

Blaine is a teenager; of course he thinks about sex. And looking at Nick and Jeff, he's pretty sure he can conclude that being boyfriends is so much more than best friends having sex. It seems to go beyond. But what does he know? He's never had a boyfriend, and he won't experience it either. Having a best friend is more than enough, he tries to convince himself. He's got his right hand, and the friendship they used to have is more than enough, especially if they can restore it. He likes doing small and bigger gestures for Kurt, but knows he doesn't do the same things for his other friends at Dalton. That's the perk of being a best friend, right? Blaine wants to hold the door for Kurt, compliment his impeccable outfit, buy him gifts, and make him happy. Blaine thinks about brushing stray hairs away from Kurt's forehead, holding him tight, cuddle without needing nightmares as an excuse.

What are the boundaries for a friendship, anyway? And why shouldn't they be free to define them on their own? Blaine Anderson doesn't do boyfriends. But he really, really wants to keep Kurt.

* * *

It's Thursday when something finally changes. Blaine's on his way to the dining hall for lunch, when a hesitant hand carefully stops Blaine by the elbow from behind.

"Blaine…" a voice speaks up.

It's a voice Blaine's missed all week. And now the voice is saying his name. Blaine stops and turns around.

"Kurt?" he asks softly, not quite believing Kurt approached him.

Kurt is standing tall, not cowering, and Blaine can see his controlled breathing as he maintains eye contact, not blinking or shying away. He lets go of Blaine's elbow, though.

"I'm ready to talk, if you still will let me," Kurt fires rapidly, but his voice is clear and leaves no doubt in Blaine about the message.

"I'd love to," Blaine beams, forcing his voice to not crack up. A part of him wants to jump and shout with joy, but he reins himself in. "Now?" he asks encouragingly, gesturing towards the dining hall.

"No," Kurt says hurriedly, and shakes his head. "I… I don't know how long it'll take."

Blaine nods to show he understands. It's better if they can talk undisturbed without any obligations rushing them.

"You can come to my room after rehearsal?" Blaine offers.

Kurt nods, and turns towards the entrance for the dining hall, leaving Blaine giddy and excited. They are going to _talk_!

"Lunch?" Kurt asks, and Blaine jogs after him.

Kurt doesn't say anything while they stand in line for their food, and Blaine doesn't say anything to push him or scare him away. When they get to their usual table, Kurt sits down next to Blaine for the first time since their confusing fallout. Blaine's heart skips a beat from utter happiness. This is progress. Kurt gives him a timid smile. They don't exchange any more words, but it doesn't bother Blaine as much as it has done so far. They will talk, later on.

* * *

Kurt's glad they didn't decide on a specific time for their talk. It gives him the possibility to calm down after rehearsal and get ready. Wes had been running them as ruthless as the pharaohs did their slaves in the ancient Egypt. Kurt had given his all to let out some of his pent up energy, and aim his focus onto something else. Singing has always been his number one outlet, and he had really needed it today. But it also means he needs some minutes to calm down and get himself under control.

Blaine hadn't said anything to him when they parted in front of his door, for which Kurt is grateful. No reminder, no pressure, just a shy smile and a wave with his left hand. It actually makes Kurt feel trusted. Blaine doesn't need to herd him; he lets Kurt come on his own terms.

Kurt sits down on his bed, unbuttoning the Dalton blazer. He isn't looking forward to their talk, and wishes he knew better what to expect. He needs to be confident and comfortable, though. He has to brace himself for being told that yeah, their friendship has just been a funny charade. He loosens his tie as he gets up from the bed to rummage his wardrobe. He needs his own kind of uniform to increase his confidence and calmness.

He's glad they're meeting up in Blaine's room. If things get too rough and difficult, he can just leave. He won't have to kick Blaine out of his room, they aren't driving somewhere in the same car potentially making the return awkward, and nobody will see or interrupt them. This is perhaps as good as it could be; the privacy and his possible escape route.

Kurt sighs, and finishes dressing. He feels more at home in his slim fitting white jeans than in the grey Dalton slacks, and he feels much better in his baby pink button up and a scarf than in the white dress shirt and Dalton tie. He doesn't detest the uniform; he just prefers his own clothes. They're like a costume enabling him to play a part. And for now he'd like to play the part of Kurt Hummel, emotionally stabile and utterly confident, not heart broken and scared at all.

He takes a deep breathe. He's already postponed this talk and stalled more than necessary.

Knocking on Blaine's bathroom door, he takes another deep breathe, bracing himself for what may come.

Blaine opens the door, and smiling bashfully he gestures for Kurt to enter.

"May I offer you something to drink?" he asks, nodding in the direction of his always immaculately stocked mini fridge.

Kurt politely declines, and hates how alien and businesslike they interact now.

"Please sit," Blaine offers, looking nervous.

Kurt daintily sits down on Blaine's office chair. The other boy moves covers and pillows around, until he sits comfortable in his bed, with his back ramrod against the wall, legs curled up like a pretzel, hands folded and rested in his lap, and an expectant and attentive expression on his face. Kurt twirls from side to side in the chair, until he folds his legs in under himself to prevent the stressed movements.

"I don't know who should begin?"

"I don't know where to begin…"

Blaine and Kurt talk simultaneously, chuckling awkwardly at the mishap. They look at each other for a moment, until Blaine talks again.

"I've been whacking my brain for two weeks, trying to understand what I did. I… I'm so sorry, Kurt, for whatever hurt you, but you have to help me out here, 'cause I'm clueless. Everything seemed great until the first Warblers' rehearsal this year, and then…"

Blaine talks softly, slowly, with clear pronunciation. His voice breaks on some of the words, revealing how emotional he's feeling. He doesn't hesitate on any words, though, and Kurt gets the impression Blaine may have prepared these sentences, maybe been wanting to ask them for some time now.

The irony is, Blaine hasn't done anything wrong and doesn't need to apologize for anything. The problem is Kurt being hurt, realizing what had been going on, and how he _again_ had been making it all up in his head.

"I will talk. I just need to sort my thoughts somewhat better," he interrupts, as he sees Blaine is about to say something.

Blaine nods, in agreement or in encouragement Kurt doesn't know.

Kurt turns sideways in the chair, resting his head against the tall back.

"Did I ever tell you what my audition piece for New Directions was?"

Blaine shakes his head, looking curious and expectant.

"_Mr. Cellophane_," Kurt sighs, looking pointedly at the other boy.

Blaine nods, and several emotions flashes briefly across his face: Recognition, sadness, humour, understanding, before he schools his face into a neutral, but attentive expression.

"I was fairly invisible my freshman year, with not many friends. Then the Glee club was resurrected last year, I joined, and became fluorescent," Kurt explains soberly. "It's a weird mix, to suddenly have a bunch of friends embracing you, while the rest of the school at the same time begins to reject and detest you. I was starving for attention after my freshman year, and yet I still felt like Mr. Cellophane, because nobody seemed to care about what happened to me."

Kurt has to stop to swallow, and he notices Blaine looking sadly at him.

"I'm not saying this to gain your pity, and I think you already knew this," Kurt hurriedly adds. "I just wanted to remind you of my backdrop when I came here. And coming here…" Kurt sighs dreamily, letting the impressive differences between McKinley and Dalton wash over him again.

"This is like a gay wonderland, you know? I haven't stopped pinching my arm to check if I'm dreaming, and I guess I latched on to anything good I met here, without stopping to think."

Kurt leans his elbow against the back of the char, resting his head in his hand.

"I'm afraid I don't follow you, Kurt. What should you have been thinking about?"

"What was real and what were figments of my imagination. I have a history of making things up in my head," Kurt laughs humourlessly. "But then I got an earth grounding reality check, so it's OK. I just need to get over it and get over myself," Kurt shrugs, trying to downplay how betrayed and hurt he's felt.

"I'm… I'm still confused; you leave me hanging here, Kurt. I think you need to be more specific. And please be honest with me, Kurt. You're my friend, you can tell me anything."

Kurt doesn't miss how Blaine words that sentence. Kurt is his friend, but Blaine isn't his. He swallows a thick lump in his throat, forcing it down to his stomach. He promised himself he wouldn't cry in front of Blaine today. He blinks several times, blocking the tears that warned about their possible arrival.

"The Secret Santa, Blaine," he says resigned. "First rehearsal after winter break, when it was all revealed? I realized I'd misinterpreted and exaggerated what we had, and I felt so humiliated, betrayed, and… and disappointed. I let myself believe everything's perfect here at Dalton, but of course it isn't. We're teenagers; we don't do adult initiated play dates. You can't choose your friends; they choose you. I got it. I wasn't chosen."

Kurt exhales from his rapid monologue, words tumbling out, telling more than he planned to admit, but hopefully Blaine understands now, and they can move on down their separate paths.

Blaine doesn't say anything, though, but is starring intently at Kurt. He still looks confused, but also… hurt?

* * *

"Kurt?" Blaine coughs, not believing his own ears. He's not sure if he understands Kurt correctly either, that can't be what's been haunting him? Surely he isn't that insecure, jumping to such conclusion? That Blaine isn't his friend? It stings, but mostly he feels sad for the other boy.

"Kurt?" he says hesitantly again, in hope of gaining some reaction from him.

"I should go," Kurt exhales and unfolds from the chair. "I've said all I have to say," he shrugs, and turns to leave.

Blaine all but dives out of bed, and grabs Kurt by the elbow, a little more forceful than he'd like, but he has to stop the boy.

"No," he barks roughly. "That's not how it works. I have things to say as well. Please hear me out," he says, looking pleadingly at the boy. He stands between Kurt and the doors, and hopes with all of his heart he'll return to the chair.

Kurt studies him for a moment, before his body seems to sink in resignation.

"OK," he whispers, turns around and straddles the office chair, chin resting on top of the headrest.

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs sincerely, but stops his hand from reaching out to touch Kurt. He goes back to his bed instead, making sure to sit down directly in front of Kurt, so he can maintain eye contact.

He has to get this right. He's not convinced Kurt will give him all that many minutes to explain, but how can he explain a profound misunderstanding like that? He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and catches a faint hint of _Kurt_ in his nostrils. He smiles fondly, lets it calm him down, and looks up at Kurt again.

Kurt looks resigned and subdued, waiting slumped down in the chair. Blaine really wants to get this right. A part of him wants to laugh from the insanity this is, but he can't belittle and embarrass Kurt like that. A bigger part of Blaine feels sad for Kurt, but he knows Kurt wouldn't like to be pitied either. So Blaine will have to go with pure honesty. He knows he can seem really clueless about these things, and usually he doesn't know what he's doing. Sure, he can pretend like he does and knows how to act it out in song. But expressing his true, inner self? That's a whole other story.

But that's what he needs to do now, to gain Kurt's trust again and fix this mess.

And now he's been silent for far too long, and needs to start talking before Kurt leaves again.

"Kurt, it saddens me that you've been feeling this. I've… I've never been good at talking about emotions. And I should have been clearer about what you mean to me… How I feel about you... I… shouldn't have taken you for granted."

Blaine's words change Kurt. He can see how he sits up straighter in the chair, and his resigned face looks more curious now.

He ploughs on; he has to get the words out while he still has Kurt's attention, even though he doesn't know what to say.

"Kurt, there's no doubt in my heart that you are my best friend. Forget about the Secret Santa; I don't even know why the Council did such a thing. But you matter to me, and you have for a long time."

Blaine takes a moment to catch his breathe, and see if his words are having any impact on Kurt.

Kurt is still watching him, but he looks disbelieving.

"I don't understand," Kurt whispers. "So much changed after we got handed out those slips with a random name. You and I got closer from then on, so how can I not believe you felt obliged to take care of me, or something?"

Kurt doesn't meet Blaine's eyes, and Blaine suspects he's forcing away tears.

"Kurt…"

He scoots closer to the edge of the bed, and stretches out a leg. He catches the office chair with his foot, and yanks it closer. Kurt lets out a startled yelp.

"Please, _please_ give me the benefit of the doubt. Those are coincidences. Everything we do together or I do for you, is because I _want_ to. To be honest, I was a bad Santa, because it was difficult to plan things I'd like to do for you which I wouldn't also do in the capacity of your friend. That montage you have on your wall next door? That may have been the only conscious thing I did as Secret Santa, and that's just because I had two ideas for your Christmas gift, wanted to give you both, and let one of them be from the Secret Santa."

Blaine can hear Kurt swallow heavily.

"I feel so stupid…" he mumbles.

"Don't!" He shoots out a hand, letting it land on top of Kurt's hands clutching the head rest.

"But Nick said you've never gone to the Dalton balls before. Why now, why me?"

"I told you about Sadie Hawkins," Blaine objects, feeling hurt, he thought Kurt would have remembered that painful memory, the worst thing ever to happen to him.

"You did, but I still don't get what's so special about me…"

"You're everything!" Blaine blurts out before he can stop himself. It gets him Kurt's full attention, though, the boy tilting his head and looking curiously at him.

"Get up," Kurt orders.

Blaine just looks dumbly at him. Is he about to be chased out of his own room? Hesitantly, he lowers his feet to the floor, and stumbles up.

Kurt unfolds from the chair, and steps up in front of him. Slowly, he takes another step to close the distance, looking nervously at Blaine. Blaine decides to smile encouragingly. He doesn't know what's going to happen, but he'll let Kurt keep the ball on his half of the field for now. Even though Kurt is taller than him, he manages to look Blaine square in the eyes. He smiles shyly at him, lifts his arms, waits a moment as if he's giving Blaine the chance to object, before wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders. They're both stiff for a moment, before seemingly at the same time melting together, and Blaine puts his arms around the other boy's waist. They're standing cheek to cheek, absorbing the other's heat, and Blaine relishes this closeness. He's _missed_ Kurt. He has to bite his lower lip to stop the satisfied sigh that wants to escape.

"I'm sorry," Kurt murmurs. "I'm so, _so_ sorry," he whispers insistently.

"I know," Blaine murmurs back, and rubs a hand along Kurt's back. "I know. It's OK."

They hug for a long time, losing grasp of time, before Blaine steps back and pulls Kurt with him to sit next to him in bed.

"May I suggest full disclosure and complete honesty with each other from now in, instead of painful misunderstandings and insecurities like this?"

"Yeah," Kurt exhales shakily. "But I still have questions, though."

"That's OK," Blaine reassures him, sounding more confident than he feels. He's never been good at opening up, and wonders what Kurt might ask. But he can't expect more of Kurt than he gives himself.

They sit next to each other in silence for a while, but it's not stifled or uncomfortable, and it makes Blaine believe they will get back to where they were.

"Tell me about yourself, Blaine."

"What?" Blaine laughs.

"You know so much about me. Sometimes I feel like I don't know you at all, you're just this perfect, charming Fata Morgana."

"I'm hardly perfect," Blaine snorts.

"It's hard not to think so, and it's kind of intimidating," Kurt admits. "I mean, look at you, your voice, your intelligence, your manners, how you act… You said you were afraid of going to the ball, and still you went and owned it. It's as if there's nothing you can't do… And that doesn't seem real. There has to be more to you. But I don't know those sides of you. And… I want you to trust me. I want you to open up to me. I want to know you. All of you."

"That's kind of a tall order," Blaine chuckles.

"Yeah, I didn't really expect to unravel all of the Blaine mystery tonight," Kurt giggles, rolling his eyes in the most friendly manner.

Blaine smiles at him, while formulating sentences in his mind.

"It's been more than two years since _the dance_, and I still struggle with the aftermath. Both physically and mentally," he admits, waiting expectantly for Kurt's reaction.

"OK," Kurt says softly, and takes Blaine's hand. He smiles encouragingly and comfortingly at him. _I've got you_, the smile says.

"You mentioned how I act?"

Kurt nods to show he remembers, squeezing his hands somewhat more. Blaine gives him a tight lipped smile, and his other hand runs through his hair before he continues.

"I do a lot of _acting_, to protect myself… I rein myself in, only reveal parts of myself, avoid situations, put up a mask…"

Kurt scoots closer so their hips are pressed together, their joined hands resting on top of Kurt's bent knees.

Blaine lays his head to rest on Kurt's shoulder. He's always been a cuddler, a touchy-feely kind of guy. And that's a part of himself he's had to control, to suppress basically since middle school. Coming to Dalton was a sanctuary, where he could relax somewhat, and experience that not all other guys shy away from friendly hugs – they in fact initiate them, and aren't afraid of "catching the gay". He knows Kurt's felt the difference too. But still Blaine's more affectionate with Kurt when they're alone.

Touches calm him down, touches sooth him, touches make him feel cherished, touching is a way for him to connect with others, touching is something he uses to express feelings, and touches are something important he shares with those he keep close.

"I love sitting like this with you," he sighs pleased, not quite aware of voicing the conclusion of his inner thoughts.

Kurt lets go of his hand, and a wave of disappointment flows over Blaine. He went too far. But then Kurt snakes his arm behind Blaine's back, and a warmth feeling fills his longing heart when he realizes he's sitting nestled in Kurt's arm.

"I never would do anything like this outside of this room. I'm scared of being me in public," Blaine admits. "I'm out and proud and all that, but if I _pass_, I…"

"I get it," Kurt interrupts, and does he sound hurt? "You can blend in and hide, you don't have a blinking neon sign over your head saying 'gay-gaydiddy-gay-gay-gay', Kurt laughs humourlessly.

Blaine sits up straighter, and turns to be able to see Kurt in the face.

"Yeah, so I have options. But Kurt, I'm scared, and I choose the cowardly route. I don't want to be scared, I don't want to be limited, I don't want to expect negative reactions to whatever I do, I don't want to be jumpy whenever I walk alone, I don't want to depend on having a crowd of friends surrounding me to be able to breathe normally when in public."

Blaine burrows his face in his hands, and his fingers are clawing at his hair. Kurt's silence is deafening.

* * *

He should have understood. He should have known the confident, cheerful, outgoing, charming, worldly, polite, and eloquent boy couldn't be just that. Kurt had felt impressed by it, intimidated by it, charmed by it. But he never got his head far enough out of his ass to consider if it was part of an armour and an act.

Kurt's been so full of himself, caught up in his own problems, the transfer and settling down at Dalton. He hasn't opened his eyes enough to really see Blaine.

He does now, though. It all makes sense. All the tiny pieces of the puzzle Blaine is which Kurt has collected throughout the months they've known each other are suddenly floating gathered in the air in front of Kurt. He only has to reach out and put them together, and he'll get a new picture of the boy.

He never noticed or paid attention to it, but he sees it now.

It's as if their dorm rooms are Blaine's sanctuary, where he can lower his shoulders, be himself, relax, let the guard down. Then there's a radius not exceeding Dalton where he's somewhat more subdued, a bit more put together, a little less himself. The further they get away from Dalton, the more he changes.

Kurt has seen Blaine more at Dalton than other places now. Of course he's noticed their interactions have changed from the first time they met, and that they are closer now than when they met up at McKinley, at the Lima Bean, at the theatre to see Rent, and all the other places they met before Kurt transferred. Kurt had just assumed it's because they are getting closer and more comfortable with each other, but he realizes it's mostly because now they usually hang out at Dalton, where Blaine feels safer.

It saddens him, to know that Blaine is still so guarded, and has to deal with the consequences of the attack more than two years later. Kurt wonders if it's post traumatic stress disorder, and if he's seen anyone about it.

Kurt is also overwhelmed by embarrassment. His sudden boost of jealousy when Blaine admitted he liked to pass is something he's ashamed of, especially considering how much Blaine is struggling. Kurt realizes Blaine isn't the strong, superior, thick skinned, perfect guy he's admired as a hero and a mentor.

Kurt also realizes he likes getting to know Blaine as more human. He's kind of falling for him even more right here and now. Unfortunately.

But Kurt can – again – force that aside, and try to be a friend for Blaine. Because now it's his turn to return the gesture, and offer him support if he wants it.

Blaine is still hiding his face in his hands, rocking back and forth in tiny, tiny circles, but Kurt sees it. He has a trained eye for dance and movement. So he pries Blaine's hands away from his face, taking them in his own. Blaine keeps his head downcast, though.

"Blaine, honey, look at me?"

He slowly lifts his head, and his eyes seem moist.

"Talk to me, Blaine," Kurt pleads.

Blaine smiles timidly at him.

"I'll talk," he sighs.

Kurt scoots over to the headboard, fluffs the pillows to get comfortable, leans back and stretches his legs out in bed. He waves at Blaine to come sit with him.

Blaine crawls on hands and knees, looking tired and resigned. He lands on top of Kurt, and Kurt awkwardly spreads his legs so Blaine can settle between them, resting on Kurt's chest. This wasn't exactly what he meant or expected. But that's fine. More than fine, actually.

Blaine has wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, and looks so exhausted and childlike. Kurt is holding him with one arm, the other hand rubbing soothingly up and down Blaine's arm.

"Have I ever told you about Cooper?" Blaine murmurs drowsily.

"You've mentioned him once or twice, but not more."

"Coop's nine years older than me, and moved to LA when I was eight. I'm the Baby Anderson," Blaine continues. "Coop was always an active, independent, adventurous boy, and only came home to sleep and eat. So mom would drown me with all her motherly love and affection, and she created the snuggle monster I am," Blaine says with the same drowsy voice, clinging even closer to Kurt.

Kurt wonders if Blaine's mind has returned to his childhood, and if he's really in this room with him now.

"Mom wanted a bunch of kids, but they only got Coop and me. I think maybe she had some miscarriages between us? I don't know, she never speaks about it, but she would often say she had so much love to share, and with Coop running around doing his own business, I got it all. She was a very affectionate woman. If I was sad, we'd cuddle. If I was glad, she'd hug me. She'd run her fingers through my hair while I was eating, she'd caress my cheek while I was watching _Tom & Jerry_, I'd snuggle close to her just because, and she always had a hug or a loving touch to pass out. Your mom is always special, and she left me craving physical affection."

Kurt can't help but notice how Blaine is constantly talking about his mother as if it happened in the past. He has to swallow a difficult lump in his throat. Blaine makes him think about his own mother as well.

"You're comfortable," Blaine adds, as if in afterthought.

Then he's silent for a while, and Kurt lets him, while slowly running his hand up and down Blaine's arm, ignoring the wet spots forming on his shirt.

"I guess I was spoiled, being the Baby Anderson, someone mom had been missing for so many years. When Coop moved, I was the only there she could shower with love. Father travels a lot in his job," Blaine hurriedly adds, as if he senses Kurt's unspoken question. "It's not like I got everything I pointed at, but sometimes I didn't have to point at anything before I got it. But most importantly, mom was always there for me, readily giving me affection and attention."

Kurt can imagine Blaine as a little boy, and he understands how that tiny boy could become such an amazing, less tiny, entertainer – craving the attention from an audience, thriving from the feedback. But he's starving from physical attention, and that's why he's being all koala bear with Kurt. It's nice, though, Kurt doesn't mind.

"I came out to my parents when I was 13," Blaine tells him, and there's so much being said from his tone of voice. Kurt fears he'll soon understand why he talks about his mom in past tense.

"Father was furious, and blamed mom. He accused her of softening me, ruining me. Two days later he came home with a '59 Chevy he wanted us to restore, clearly wanting to get my hands dirty and straightening me up."

Blaine sniffs, and nuzzles his head further into Kurt's chest.

"Long story short, they eventually got divorced. Because of me. And I haven't seen mom in a very long time…"

Kurt kisses the top of Blaine's head, ignoring the tears soaking his shirt. He'd like to hear the whole, long story, he'd like for Blaine to fill the gaps. Where is his mom now? And father? How is his relationship with his parents? Where was Cooper when Blaine was attacked? When did he come out in school? Kurt doesn't want to push him, though, but files the information away to get to the bottom of it at a later time.

Kurt should be happy. He wanted to get to know Blaine better; he wanted the boy to open up to him. He didn't expect this, though, and he is really worried about Blaine now.

* * *

Blaine wonders what the hell came over him, lying down with Kurt like that. It has to be overstepping every kind of boundary between friends. But Kurt had just wrapped him up in his arms, letting him ramble and cry. He feels embarrassed, he didn't exactly plan to cry in front of Kurt, and he has told Kurt things he's never ever told anyone else.

This is kind of humiliating, and he should get up from this awkward position, but it's also all kinds of nice to feel another body close to him, soak up the heat, listening to the heartbeats, finally feeling close to and safe with someone.

"I hope for your sake your future husband is a pro cuddler," Kurt chuckles teasingly after a long time with silence.

"I'm sorry," Blaine says apologetically, and tries to get up.

"I don't mind," Kurt says nonchalantly, not loosening his grip around Blaine.

"Thank you for listening," Blaine says, amazed by how he needed both to talk and cuddle.

"Thank you for trusting me. I… I hope you didn't feel pressured to tell me this."

"Not at all. And you were right. You don't know much about me, and I want to change that. I… I want you to know all about me. And I want to know all about you too."

"I've missed you," Kurt exhales, and Blaine can hear the smile in his voice.

"I missed you to," Blaine sighs. "We're good now, right?" he asks hesitantly, afraid he's jumped to conclusions.

"We're better than good," Kurt confirms. "And I'm really, really sorry for doubting you."

"I know. It's OK. You don't have to apologize."

"I'm still sorry."

"Shush now. Do you want to watch a movie?"

Kurt agrees, so Blaine gets up to start the DVD-player, and when he comes back to bed he makes sure to lie down next to Kurt instead. He still feels drowsy, and it wouldn't surprise him if he manages to fall asleep within soon. But he doesn't want to; he wants to spend as much time with Kurt as possible. They haven't spent any time together since the assumed concussion, and he's missed his friend badly.

The movie is something they've both seen several times before, so it's a favourite they don't mind watching, but they won't ruin anything if they talk either.

They are silent for a long time, laughing at the familiar jokes, singing along, and reciting their favourite dialogue parts. They sit next to each other, no body contact, but still close enough to assure Blaine there's no awkward tension between them after his rather indecent clinging earlier.

"Are you OK?"

Kurt looks at him with a soft expression, completely tuning the movie out.

"Yeah, I am now. It was a bit heavy to talk about, but I'm fine now."

"Good," Kurt smiles. "Lighter conversation topic?"

"Deal."

"So, any past boyfriends? Or current, for that matter, but I'd assume I'd heard about him by now."

_So much for lighter conversation topic_, Blaine thinks. There's also something off with the laidback tone of Kurt's voice, but Blaine can't quite pinpoint it. Besides, he has a heavy question needed to be answered in a light tone.

"No. No boyfriend, neither past nor current," he says, trying to avoid the sigh that wants out of his chest.

His first and only date was the Sadie Hawkins-dance, and he's avoided it ever after. Not that there has been many potential candidates, but he hasn't been looking either. He can't date anyone when he's as scared as he is. He wouldn't even be able to take someone out on a proper, romantic date, not to mention being a good boyfriend. So until he's got his head and issues under control, he'll have to stay single. Anything else would be unfair on the other.

He turns his head to look at Kurt. The boy's amazing, from what he knows so far, and he's looking forward getting to know him even better. They haven't known each other for that long, and he can't wait to explore their friendship further.

Blaine's mind wanders even further away from the movie, and conjures images on his retina of a better world, where Blaine wasn't fucked up, where Kurt liked him, and Blaine would ask him out on dates.

His traitorous mind gives him flashes of precious could-be-but-won't-be-moments between Kurt and him. He sees not only the kind of cuddling they usually do, but more touches, wandering hands, kisses, being closer, staring in each other's eyes. He sees singing flirty duets and improvising back up for each other – even more than they already do in the car and in their dorms. He sees holding hands, all the time, not just sporadically like they do now. He sees doing random gestures for each other, for instance bringing Kurt coffee in the morning, or something else he doesn't already do. He sees spending time together to study, or to watch a movie together, or…

Well, Blaine be darned…

It's like they're already Dalton sweethearts, isn't it?

"I really, really care about you."

Blaine can feel Kurt stiffen and tensing up next to him.

He said that out loud, didn't he?

Kurt reaches for the remote control, and pauses the movie.

"I really, really care about you too," he says softly, looking at Blaine through his eyelashes, and a blush over his cheek bones.

"I don't want to screw this up, though," he says insistently, making sure Kurt sees and hears him.

He's already blurted out the punch line wrong, he might as well unload his heart on Kurt so the boy may understand where he comes from. He takes a moment to straighten out his thoughts, before realizing it's hopeless. He has no fancy, well articulated speech to present. Blaine's an emotional rambler.

"You're special to me, Kurt. A friend like you is a rare treasure, and I don't want to risk losing you. Do you understand what I mean?" he asks pointedly.

Kurt's been silent so far, giving Blaine the possibility to empty his heart, even when he struggles with the words. The cute blush and his trembling hands are signs Kurt isn't as calm as he tries to seem, though.

"You like me, but you don't want to date me," Kurt says bluntly.

"I don't want to date _anyone_, Kurt," he pleads for him to understand. "I can be your friend, but I don't know if I'm capable of being anything more. I don't want to risk destroying what we have, when what we already have is so wonderful."

"So, like we agreed on earlier; we're friends, but still have a lot to learn about each other. We'll work on enhancing the platform for our friendship, go slow, and take it from there?"

Kurt doesn't look too heartbroken, a bit disappointed and resigned, but also hopeful, and Blaine is relieved.

"I'd like that, very much," he exhales.

"Well, Billy Crystal, we have a movie to finish. Which spoon are you?"

"The big spoon, obviously, my dear Meg Ryan."

"It's the only time you get to call yourself big," Kurt snorts, and lies down on his side, hitting the play-button on the remote control.

"You make it so easy to come up with dirty jokes," Blaine grins, and lies down behind Kurt.

Kurt swats his arms away, blushes furiously, while stuttering something intelligible. Blaine stores that piece of information away for later. It's not the first time Kurt's shown to be uncomfortable while talking about sex or anything sex related.

He wraps an arm around Kurt's waist, and they are much closer than two friends would be. But haven't they just agreed they are perhaps something more than friends, or may be so in the future? Who needs labels, anyway?

The movie ends, and Kurt is breathing deeply in Blaine's arms.

"Kurt?" Blaine sing-songs, but to no reaction.

He kind of feels relieved, lighter and happier after their conversation, even though he ended up saying a lot of things he didn't think he'd say to Kurt at this moment, maybe even ever. It feels kind of liberating, though. Maybe he can be more relaxed and loose around Kurt now, and stop controlling his words and actions. They have an agreement, an understanding. Blaine has been given more space to navigate within. And Kurt really, really cares about him too.

He relishes their cuddled up position for a couple of more minutes. Eventually, he'll have to wake up Kurt and send him to bed, but first he'll enjoy this some more.

* * *

Friday is a constant state of blur for Kurt. He'll need some time to digest everything Blaine and he talked about yesterday. What he knows for certain is that they're talking again, they've cleared up Kurt's major misunderstanding, and hopefully they will continue to be themselves with each other, stepping away from anymore awkwardness.

Blaine's confessions are a double edged sword. Kurt hasn't completely digested that new piece of information yet, and he is filled with bubbles of both elevation and disappointment. Blaine admitted he cares for Kurt, he likes Kurt – but he won't date him. He doesn't want to jeopardize their relationship by being a bad boyfriend. But how can he know he'll flunk the boyfriend part? Just because he has issues to deal with, doesn't mean he can't still be what Kurt wants? Kurt sighs. The rational part of him understands Blaine, and kudos him for being so mature. Blaine needs to feel comfortable, and Kurt can't pressure him into anything. That won't make for a healthy relationship.

A part of Kurt wants to scream in frustration – of course it's his typical luck to fall for a guy who actually likes him back, but refuses to act on it. A part of him really wants to have what everyone else is experiencing, with flirting and dates and butterflies and fun. He might have it, but it's just out of reach for him now. He can see it, it teases him, but jumps away when he tries to capture it. Then he remembers that this isn't some random high school crush. This is _Blaine_. Blaine, his best friend, who's been through worse things than Kurt's ever experienced. So for now, he'll be a supportive and caring friend, and maybe he can allow himself to believe they do flirt as well, they're not merely friendly. Kurt got his way yesterday; he got to know Blaine better and got answers to some questions. Along with a dozen new questions, that is.

At least this day has been pretty great so far. They spent time together in the bathroom for their morning ritual. During breakfast they had a riveted discussion about the Oscar nominations, as they had been announced while they weren't talking. The debate of worthy and unworthy nominees had transformed to detailed descriptions of the gowns and suits they'd like to see the celebrities in.

The rest of the day had gone by quickly, and Kurt hasn't felt this awake and alive in a long time. Not talking with Blaine has been heavier on him than he could ever imagine. Now they are waiting for Warblers' rehearsal. Rather, Nick and Jeff are waiting with him. The other Warblers are still in class, but the trio got out early from home ec as they thanks to Kurt finished their assignment quickly.

Both Nick and Jeff have expressed their delight the boys are friends again, and Nick gave him the "I told you so"-speech. Kurt hasn't revealed much from the conversation yet, though, just let them know that his stupid insecurities made him jump to conclusions.

"So you're all good now?" Jeff double-checks.

"We're more than fine," Kurt gushes, and he can feel his cheeks heat up.

"Is that so?" Nick grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, nothing like that," Kurt quickly corrects them.

He looks out of the door, but the hallways are empty. There's still ten more minutes of class. He can confide in these two? He can trust them to not tell anyone?

"I think maybe he likes me?" Kurt whispers rushed, needing to let the words out.

He actually feels fairly confident Blaine positively likes him, but their agreement to take things slow and Blaine's hesitance is something between the two of them. It doesn't concern Nick and Jeff, so Kurt lets it out of the equation.

"Man, I just _love_ being able to do the 'I told you so'-speech twice in one day," Nick gushes, playfully bumping Kurt's shoulder with his fist.

"So, did he ask you out on a date yet? Can we double date?" Jeff asks eagerly, jumping up and down in a silly "told you so"-dance.

"No, he didn't ask me out," Kurt says without any trace of hurt or disappointment in his voice. He can live with slow, for a while.

"So, Kurt, there's one thing we don't understand."

Kurt looks at Nick and Jeff expectantly, waiting for them to continue.

"Why don't _you_ ask Blaine out?"

"Uhuh, nope, not gonna happen, ain't going there."

That's true. Even if Blaine had written with a permanent marker on his forehead that he likes Kurt, Kurt wouldn't make the first move. He'll wait for Blaine, and if Blaine never asks him out, he'll take that as a sign.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm predatory gay making people uncomfortable around me."

Nick and Jeff burst out laughing, and it annoys Kurt.

"Yeah, you are _so_ predatory, watch out for Hummel!" Nick exclaims.

"Dalton is scattered with male leftovers in your trails," Jeff laughs, and the two boys high five.

Kurt doesn't say anything until the boys stop laughing.

"There has to be an awesome story behind this," Nick snickers.

"Tell us, Kurt, what makes you so dangerous and bad ass?" Jeff cries.

Kurt sighs, but decides to tell them a censored version of the story.

"So, you know I was the only out gay guy at McKinley?"

The two boys nod affirmatively.

"It didn't stop me from crushing, though. I spent most of my last year pining for this guy."

Kurt decides to let out the tiny detail the guy is now his step brother, it's too embarrassing.

"I guess I got a bit determined and persistent, and scared the boy. He exploded in my face, calling me a fag, and later on he explained any girl would have issued him a restraining order if he'd behaved like I did."

Kurt shrugs.

"So, no more pursuing silly crushes for me. I'll be patient and wait."

"Wow…" Nick exhales.

"But what did you _do_?" Jeff asks confused. "Did you stalk him in the hallways? Did you send him flowers and gifts all the time? Did you sabotage his date life? Did you threaten his girl friend? Did you grope him?"

"No…"

"Did you send him love letters? Did you ask him out? Did you watch him in his sleep? Did you follow him in your car? Did you hide under his bed? Did you break into his car?" Nick asks.

"No…"

"Kurt, you have to tell us what you did, because so far you seem harmless like a butterfly."

Kurt swallows, twice, and sighs.

"I guess at first it was just me blushing and staring and swooning around him. The feelings grew, and he caught me leering several times. I even sang a love song to him, in Glee club." Kurt blushes, and the other boys chorus an aww.

"Then I started scheming, and I introduced our parents to each other, encouraged them to start dating, all in hope of getting closer to him. Our parents moved together, I redecorated the room we were supposed to share, wanting to make it our home. He really didn't like it, though, and freaked out."

"Wait, are you talking about _Finn_?" Jeff shrieks scandalized.

"Yes…" Kurt groans reluctantly.

They don't get to talk more about that particular topic, as several Warblers enter the room.

The Council announces the rehearsal to be in session, reminding everybody this is their _casual Friday_, and the floor is open to whoever has anything to sing.

Kurt's prepared something he wants to perform for them, and jumps up immediately. Blaine looks curiously and expectantly at him from his seat next to him.

He addresses the Council and the room.

"In New Directions it is custom to take the floor whenever someone needs to express themselves emotionally, and that's what I'll be doing here today. I know I've been kind of a bitch to a lot of you the past weeks, and I want to apologize for that."

His admission ignites a round of amused laughter in the room, but everybody's looking at him with friendly faces.

"The one and only Adele dedicates this song to her best friend, and I'd like to do the same," he says, smiling at a surprised Blaine.

Kurt begins tapping a beat with his right foot, shimmying his shoulders in the same slow, sensual rhythm, and snapping his fingers on both hands. He has no anguish doing the song a cappella; it's so rich on melody on its own.

He lets out the introductory ooh-ooh's, swaying his head and letting the jazz sensation embrace him.

_You said I'm stubborn and I never give in  
__I think you're stubborn 'cept you're always softening  
__You say I'm selfish, I agree with you on that  
__But I think you're giving out in way too much in fact_

He sings the song, looking right at Blaine, with a smirk curled across his lips. Blaine laughs when he recognizes the song, shaking his head in amusement.

_I say we've only known each other a year  
__You say boo, I've known you longer, my dear  
__You like to be so close, I like to be alone  
__I like to sit on chairs and you prefer the floor_

It's true they are two very different boys, but they also have plenty of similarities. Sometimes, Kurt has to stop what he's doing, pinch his arm, and remember they've only known each other for a bit more than three months, and he's only been to Dalton for a month or so. But they clicked so instantly and insistently, it feels like they've always been in each others lives.

_I thought I knew myself, somehow you know me more  
__I've never known this, never before  
__You're the first to make up whenever we argue  
__I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know you_

Kurt makes sure to lock eyes with Blaine for this verse. Of course, as a performer it's not the right thing to do, but this is his apology and thank you and gratitude to Blaine. He's so glad that even though Kurt repeatedly rejected him, Blaine didn't give up on him. Getting to know Blaine also means getting to know himself even better. They complement each other, and Kurt can't hide the grin when he thinks about the missing puzzle piece Blaine sung about during his spying escapades.

_Walking with each other  
__Think we'll never match at all  
__But we do, but we do, but we do, but we do_

These words tasted weird in his mouth, when he was practicing earlier this week, hoping this song would work as an outreached hand if Blaine didn't accept to talk. But after yesterday, Kurt knows they'll make it. He's a bit bewildered about how far they can go – but he's confident they'll always be friends.

The Warblers readily give him a round of applause, and it feels like more than the polite clapping of hands they do whenever someone's completed a performance. Kurt walks back towards his seat, trying to seem confident, but in reality anxious to assess Blaine's reaction.

He hasn't even crossed half the floor, when Blaine has jumped up and meets him halfway, engulfing him in a warm hug.

"_Thank you_," Blaine murmurs intensely in his ear.

"I'm so glad we're friends again," Kurt chokes, and they separate. Blaine leads him back to the couch with a warm hand resting around Kurt's shoulders. They sit down, but Blaine is almost jumping in his seat from excitement and giddiness.

"Nobody's ever sung to me like that before."

"About time," Kurt drawls, and winks.

They share a big smile, before leaning back in the couch to watch a silly duet performed by Nick and Jeff. They're overacting their hilarious way through it.

"_I'll sing it in your face While we both embrace. And then We change The key_," Jeff belts out, barely more than an inch or two from Nick's face.

"_Now we're into E! Hem… That's awfully high for me_," Nick squeaks back.

"Coop would love this," Blaine leans in to whisper in Kurt's ear. "Seriously, he'd worship it."

Kurt doesn't know Blaine's brother, so he can't fully enjoy the sardonic comment. But he likes the random commentary, loves having Blaine back. So he just grins, before directing his attention to their silly friends again.

Several other Warblers take the floor, doing more or less prepared performances. They improvise doo wop's and background harmonies, and have a blast. The Council is mock offended, objecting that these are hardly Regionals material. But they don't hesitate to take part and applaud the performances, so it can't be that bad.

As the rehearsal draws towards its end, Blaine becomes more and more fidgety. Kurt bumps his shoulder with his own, asking with his eyes what's wrong. Blaine just shakes his head, and smiles gently.

"If nobody else has anything they need to get off of their chests today, Warbler Blaine has asked for the 11 o' clock number," Wes tells them.

"Those are your words," Blaine objects, and rolls his eyes. He gets up from the couch nevertheless, and takes the spot next to the Council table.

"I promise this isn't staged," he chuckles and scratches the back of his head. "I, ah, have prepared a song dedicated to my best friend…"

His words trail off, and Kurt realizes Blaine hasn't slipped behind his performer mask. This is the first time Kurt's seen Blaine seem nervous during a Warblers rehearsal. He's being Blaine, through and though, now.

Kurt watches him, as Blaine closes his eyes, and his chest raises from the deep breathe he's taking. He rests his arms on his back, opens his eyes, and doesn't shy away but maintains eye contact with Kurt as he begins to sing.

_When the night has come  
__And the land is dark  
__And the moon is the only light we'll see  
__No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid  
__Just as long as you stand, stand by me_

He beams, and places his right hand over his heart to instantly show Blaine how much he appreciates this. It's not like he was serenaded week after week with New Directions either.

_So darlin', darlin', stand by me, oh stand by me  
__Oh stand, stand by me, stand by me_

Blaine musters so much intensity, emotion and rawness in his voice. His hands are stretched, held up towards Kurt, and he sings with his entire body. It gives Kurt goose bumps.

_If the sky that we look upon  
__Should tumble and fall  
__And the mountains should crumble to the sea  
__I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear  
__Just as long as you stand, stand by me_

_Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me, oh now stand by me  
__Oh stand by me, stand by me, stand by me_

A shiver runs down Kurt's spine, and he couldn't have torn his gaze away from Blaine if he wanted to. But he's utterly captivated by the boy's performance. As soon as Blaine hits the last tone, Kurt's on his feet to give him a standing ovation. The other Warblers applaud as well, the Council dismisses them, and everybody politely leaves the room while Kurt and Blaine slowly navigate towards the other.

Kurt doesn't hesitate, but wraps his arms around Blaine's neck, and pulls him into a tight hug. He's met with the warmth of Blaine's arms snaking around his waist.

"I _need_ you, Kurt," Blaine whispers.

"I need you too," Kurt willingly admits.

* * *

**Lyrics mentioned:**

Chicago – _Mr. Cellophane_

Adele – _My Same_

Spamalot – _The Song That Goes Like This_

Ben E. King – _Stand By Me_

* * *

**AN: Remember! No Season 4 spoilers for me!_  
_**


	32. Road Trip

**AN: Writing this story is so much fun, and getting feedback from my readers make it so much more fun.**

**Christmas is coming up, and I'll be super busy with friends and family. I really don't know if I'll have time to do any writing, and worst case scenario this is the last chapter I get to upload this year. I'd rather give you a pleasant surprise than disappoint you, so we probably won't meet up again until 2013. So, with that said, I wish all of you a wonderful Christmas, or season greetings, and may 2013 be a great year for all of us!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything else you might recognize.**

* * *

"Are you up for shopping today?"

Kurt finishes chewing the toast, and takes a big sip of his orange juice. He pinches his nose between his thumb and index finger before speaking.

"Dalton Academy proudly presents this year's winner of Most Stupid Question. Let's give a round of applause for Mr. Blaine Devon Anderson!" Kurt fake cheers.

"No need to be a brat," Blaine huffs.

"Agreed," David chimes in. "The year is still newborn, Blaine has about 345 more days to make even more stupid questions."

"But we'd be happy to assist you in hosting the coronation by December," Wes politely offers.

"Who needs enemies…" Blaine mumbles, but they all ignore him.

"Are you going to the mall?" Jeff asks Kurt.

Blaine waves to show he's still there, objecting loudly over being kicked out of the conversation.

"I don't know. Probably," Kurt shrugs.

"Could you pick up some stuff for us?" Jeff nods towards Nick.

"Sure, what do you need?" Kurt asks, reaching for his phone to type it down on a memo note.

"Condoms and lube," Jeff says nonchalantly, and dives into his oatmeal again.

"Ooh, are you finally going to do the deed?" Wes asks excitedly.

"I didn't know you were that invested in our sex life?" Nick asks pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

"Have you forgotten how Wes always lives vicariously through other couples when he has no sex life of his own?" David asks solemnly.

Nick picks up David's discharged glasses from the table, and pierces them on his own nose.

"Mr. Montgomery, let me educate you on gay sex," he says mock seriously. He's clasped his palms together, wiggling the fingers on either hand against the others. "Lube is a wonderful invention, which will... ah, lubricate, if I may say so, and make for a lot of fun. It's a bare necessity for anal sex, that is true, but it can also be used to enhance pleasure in other situations, or rather, positions."

Wes holds up a finger, gesturing for Nick to wait, and rummages his pockets until he finds a notepad and a pen. Of course, as a Council man, he would have something like that at hand.

"Why don't we draw some illustrations as well?" Jeff suggests, and yanks the writing supplies out of Wes' hands.

"Guys, some of us are still eating!" Blaine objects, pointedly shoving his half eaten food away from him on the table.

Nick is still educating Wes in the merits of lube and in what other ways condoms can be used. Jeff is drawing eagerly, only interrupted by Nick occasionally saying "no, it should be more like this," and "you need to make that bigger."

"I don't know why I can't find any normal friends," Blaine mumbles, burying his face in his hands.

"Wanna ditch them?" Kurt offers, laughing awkwardly. It's the first time he speaks up after Nick told him what to buy.

"Please," Blaine sighs relieved.

As they get up, Kurt can't help but throw a curious glance at the drawing Jeff is making. It's a picture of two bees holding hands – wings? - in front of a building with a big sign on the roof saying "Adoption agency".

They leave their trays in the assigned area, and take a detour via their rooms for dental hygiene and satchels, before leaving Dalton grounds in Blaine's car.

Because he suggested go shopping, so it's only fair they use his car.

"Where to?" Kurt asks.

"We could go to the mall. But I'm in the mood for a road trip. I just want to drive and drive, and be somewhere else than Westerville. It's silly, I know," Blaine chuckles.

"I haven't been to the mall here, so I don't mind going," Kurt offers. "But I'm game for a road trip as well."

"OK, let's go to the mall first, and plot a plan for our adventures today," Blaine grins.

* * *

After their talk on Thursday, Kurt is finding himself more aware of Blaine, more observant of how he acts with different surroundings. Even if he isn't looking specifically for it, it's still noticeable.

As soon as they've parked and left the car outside of the mall, the transformation begins. His eyes become more distant, and he schools his facial expressions. He's attentive to what Kurt says, but he isn't as vibrant as when they're alone. Then Blaine talks with his entire body, with hand gestures, facial expressions and body language. The public Blaine is tamed, more subdued, stiffer. He walks differently. The bounce in his steps is gone. And he maintains a physical distance to Kurt. At Dalton, they'd always walk close, so close that their shoulders would bump into the other, or the knuckles on their hands would brush against each other. They'd even unconsciously developed a habit to keep their satchels on opposite shoulders, so they wouldn't obstruct their proximity.

Blaine has always been more touchy-feely than Kurt, and he would sling an arm over Kurt's shoulders if he was really excited about something. He'd steer Kurt away from people walking in their way with a firm, but gentle hand on his lower back. He'd bump his shoulder with his own if he said something teasingly. And he'd take Kurt's hand to comfort him.

But at the mall, there seems to be this invisible barrier between them, maintaining some distance and prohibiting any contact. And now Kurt knows it is because Blaine is scared.

Kurt is lost in his own thoughts and analysis of Blaine, and comes back to hear Blaine mid-sentence.

"…and because I have strong opinions on what I like to wear, they thought it would be a better idea to just give me the money, although it's not the most personal Christmas gift."

Kurt nods to show he's listening, hoping he hasn't missed any important information.

"Where do we begin?"

"I have a fencing tournament coming up, and all the contestants will be attending a banquet dinner, so I wanted something new for that. Maybe a new blazer. And I need some pants. Nothing extravagant, just casual."

"I'm impressed. I would have thought you would have to wear the uniform at an event like the banquet."

"No, I have Dalton clothes for the competition, but for social events I'm allowed to wear whatever I want."

"I still have problems believing it. You're representing Dalton, for goodness sake, their pride and glory. It's a wonder they don't brand your forehead with the crest."

"Well…" Blaine hesitates, smiling sheepishly.

"Spill!" Kurt demands, feeling smug.

"I may have to sew on a patch of the Dalton crest…" Blaine admits, looking bashfully at him. "Or rather, I'll go home, so somebody there can help me."

"Or you could ask your neighbour, who's known to be quite handy with a needle and thread."

"I couldn't ask that of you."

"Yeah, you're right," Kurt glares at him. "It would take me at least fifteen minutes. Maybe seventeen. And I would really hate helping a friend. And you've _never_ done anything for me either. So yeah, you make a valid point."

Blaine simply laughs, shaking his head.

"I didn't know I had a personal tailor," he winks, and pokes Kurt in the chest.

They've reached the top floor of the mall, where most of the men's clothing stores are.

"Oh, GAP," Blaine beams excitedly, pointing in the right direction.

"No, Blaine. Just, no."

"But sometimes they have nice clothes, and the staff is really service minded. Last time I shopped here this cute guy, Jeremiah, helped me a lot."

Blaine and Kurt have chatted about hot celebrities, but to hear him talk about someone ordinary, someone 100 metres away, someone available, as cute, is a whole different story. Kurt's heart aches, his stomach growls, and his cheeks heat up. He wants to take Blaine's hand and steer him away, but he respects him too much to force himself on him in public.

"Isn't it where you bought those t-shirts that lost most of its colour after a wash?" he asks casually instead.

"You're right. And the socks lost all shape and elasticity after use; it was like sticking my feet in a cotton bag. And I don't even like wearing socks from the beginning."

"So what do we learn from that, Blaine?" Kurt exaggerates his teacher voice.

"There's a reason why quality clothes cost more."

"Unless we can make a bargain on a sale," Kurt adds offhandedly, and quickly walks past GAP. Blaine has to jog a couple of steps to catch up with him.

"You're my hero," he grins. "I should pay you to be my personal shopping assistant," he bumps his shoulder against Kurt's.

Kurt is actually left speechless for a moment, because Blaine hasn't initiated random touches like that in public before. He swallows, and tries not to stare dreamily at Blaine, because he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this, if it was a coincidence, or Blaine forgot where they are. And he poked him earlier as well!

"Well, coffee is my gold," he shrugs instead, and tries to walk normally, suppressing his urge to shake Blaine by the shoulders and ask him if he did that intentionally.

* * *

They end up in Brooks Brothers, first and foremost looking at blazers, but it's impossible to ignore the other assortment in the store.

"What else are you wearing at the banquet?"

"I thought black dress pants and wingtips, and a shirt that goes with the jacket I hope to buy. And a bowtie, of course."

"But of course. Any colour scheme?"

"I'm representing Dalton, so I guess I should go for something neutral. But I don't want to look boring."

They wander along the isle, looking at the clothes' racks, quickly categorizing the clothes into "never", "maybe" and "yes, oh yes".

After the initial sorting, Blaine picks out four jackets Kurt also approves of, to try them on.

The first is a navy blue, simple blazer. Blaine draws back the curtain of his stall to ask Kurt for his opinion.

"It's not that it doesn't look good on you, Blaine. But it's hardly different from the Dalton blazer. You might as well use that, and spend your money on something fresher."

"You're right. I guess that's what drew me to it. It's familiar, and I do like the uniform."

"Sure you do," Kurt rolls his eyes. "Go back, second jacket, try it, come on, be a good boy."

Blaine pokes his tongue at him as he disappears behind the curtains again.

"Oh, _such_ a mature boy. I can see how everybody wants you to represent them – both as student president, lead singer, and star athlete. Well done, Blaine."

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Blaine replies sardonically.

Two moments later he comes out wearing a deep green corduroy jacket. Kurt gets up from his chair to inspect Blaine closer. He runs his hand down Blaine's chest to see the colours change as he plays with the fabric. A quick hiss from Blaine makes him realize what he did.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I didn't think, it's just the fabric and the light and…"

"Calm down, Kurt, it's OK. You just caught me by surprise," Blaine smiles softly, but Kurt can't meet his eyes.

"I didn't mean to… You, and here, and," Kurt gestures at Blaine, and to the general area around them.

"Kurt," Blaine says to reach though Kurt's rambling, and holds him by his wrists. "Not all surprises are bad."

_Oh…_

"…" Kurt tries to say the word again, but he seems to have lost his voice.

Blaine ducks his head and scratches his neck.

"So, is it a no or a go?"

"It's a go," Kurt nods.

The third is a mustard coloured heavy jacket. It looked promising on the rack.

"I don't know…" Blaine says, as he emerges from behind the curtain again. "It just won't… fit."

Kurt gets up from his seat again, and offers to find one in a smaller size. But that won't sit properly either.

"The sleeves are long enough, the buttons button, it's not too wide over the shoulders. But still it just feels wrong."

"I can see that," Kurt says. "It kind of hangs on you like a potato sack, and hide your nice frame."

"You think I have a nice frame?" Blaine grins smugly, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth.

Kurt can feel himself blush from his toes to his coiffed hair.

"Next jacket," he orders, looking eagerly at his phone, hoping it'll save him.

He busies himself with a round of backgammon against his phone, while Blaine changes. He's interrupted by the swishing sound of the curtains being pulled to the side, and his jaw drops to the floor when he spots Blaine. The blazer had looked good on the hanger, but on Blaine…

It's a gray and white plaid blazer, and the fabric is so smooth it almost melts around Blaine's body. It accentuates his broad shoulders, and makes his chest look even firmer and more solid.

"Turn," he croaks.

It looks almost better from behind. It's nipped perfectly in by the waist, showing off Blaine's strong back and narrow waist. Blaine turns to face him again.

"You don't like it?" he asks worriedly. "Because I do. But you're the one that knows fashion, so if you say it's bad…"

Kurt reaches for the tag hanging from Blaine's left sleeve, and reads the information. Cashmere and wool-blend. Not surprising, considering how fluid and soft and _fitting_ it looks. It's as if it's clinging to him, moulding itself around Blaine's body.

"How is it to wear? Have you moved around, sat down, lifted your arms?"

Blaine acts like a Pinocchio, and moves his arms and body in every direction. He sits down and sits up again.

"May I?" he gestures with his hands towards Blaine, and is answered by a smile and a nod.

He checks that the seam between the shoulders and sleeves fit as perfectly as they seem against Blaine's own shoulders. He runs his hands from the waist and up, to check if the seam constrict under his arms. When he circles a finger in the air, Blaine turns around, and Kurt double checks that the jacket won't pull over his back when Blaine moves his arms.

He was pretty sure about the answers, but the temptation by the possibility to _touch_ was too big, and he gave in.

"You should buy it," Kurt concludes. "It's… perfect. It makes you look like someone Dalton can be proud of. It looks good on you. It isn't too casual. You look smart, handsome…" Kurt's voice trails off, and he decides to not speak anymore, to avoid embarrassing himself further.

"I need a shirt," Blaine says bashfully, and Kurt could kiss him for changing the topic. Except, yeah, no, he won't.

"Colour?"

"I really liked the baby pink shirt you wore on Thursday. You looked really good in that," Blaine says shyly. "You think I could pull it off too?"

"Only one way to find out," Kurt shrugs, but internally flailing over the compliment Blaine gave him.

He gestures the universal _wait here for me_-signal, and goes shirt-hunting.

He returns with three shirts in different pink nuances. Blaine picks his favourite, and tries it on. The result? Highly approved of.

An hour later, they leave the store. Not only did Blaine buy the blazer and shirt, but he also found a couple of pants.

"You love your colours," Kurt smirks, thinking about the bright red, deep purple and bottle green pants Blaine bought.

"I love me some colours," Blaine grins. "But you didn't buy anything? I would bet anything you'd leave with more bags than I did."

"Yeah…" Kurt shrugs. "Mercedes and I did some serious shopping during Christmas, and it's limited how many outfits I need at Dalton."

The truth is his economy has changed after transferring to Dalton. Earlier he'd earn money by working for his dad. But whenever he goes home now, both his dad and he prefer for him to spend the precious and short time with family and friends. He'll work there during summer, but when he goes home a weekend or two each months the garage isn't main priority. So he tries to reduce his flow of money, limiting it to gas and coffee. Luckily, make over's are like crack to him, and his shopping withdrawal has been satisfied with this outing with Blaine.

"So, where to now?"

"Let's go to Lima," Blaine suggest, eager as a child on 4th of July. "I've really only been to McKinley briefly, the Lima Bean and Breadstix. There's gotta be more to that place?"

"Hardly," Kurt mutters.

"Oh, come on," Blaine pleads. "You can be my tour guide and everything? Show me all the sights and what you deem important?"

"Fine," Kurt relents, amused by how eager Blaine is to see his home town. "But would it be OK to drop by my place for a coffee? It feels rude to go to Lima without seeing dad and Carole."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Blaine smiles honestly at him, and puts the car in gear.

The two hour long car drive disappears like cotton in a whirlwind. It's as if they have to make up for the almost two weeks they didn't talk, and they don't even have time to sing along to the radio.

"Hey, how come I've never heard you mentioning anything about fencing practice?"

"Training got into a hiatus shortly after you transferred, but is starting up again now. I've been so busy with Sectionals, being student president, boxing, jogging, and you, so I guess it slipped my mind."

"So you box?"

"Yeah, it's something I took up some time after I was released from the hospital, after the… dance."

"You must enjoy it, if you're still sticking to it."

"I do," Blaine nods eagerly. "It's an excellent stress reliever, or anger outlet. Actually I founded… Never mind."

"Hey, now you got me curious. You founded? Tell me!"

"No, no, it's nothing. I can't talk about it," Blaine rambles awkwardly.

Kurt decides not to push it, although his interest is more than peaked.

"So, in conclusion. You enjoy watching football, you're a boxer, you're fencing, and you jog. You'd be the perfect jock at McKinley."

"I'd like to think I'd be better behaved and dressed," Blaine teases.

"Oh, for sure. For sure," Kurt laughs.

* * *

Kurt gives Blaine directions, so he can stop the car in the big parking place in the main area of Lima. From there they have walking distance to the mall, various independent stores, the Lima Bean, and also the school.

"Carole invites us for dinner," Kurt says, looking at his dad's reply on his text asking if they were home. "But we can go back to Dalton."

"Kurt, I do understand that you want to spend some time with your family."

"Or you could go back to Dalton. I'm sure Finn or dad can drive me back later on, or tomorrow."

"Kurt." Blaine takes his hand to stop him. "I'd love to have dinner with your family. Unless you want to spend time with them alone, I don't mind staying, and go back to Dalton at the same time as you do, whenever that is."

"Are you sure? Maybe you had plans I'm keeping you away from…"

Kurt's heart is pounding, and he has to close his eyes for a moment. They're standing in the main street in Lima, and Blaine is holding his hand. He can feel Blaine's sweating and trembling, but he's still holding his hand.

"Kurt. I want to spend time with _you_," Blaine says softly, and gives his hand a firm squeeze before letting go.

"Okay then," Kurt says breathlessly.

They walk around in the streets, Kurt pointing out interesting stores, or places he has anecdotes to. They wander aimlessly in the mall for half an hour, but it's too small and boring after having spent hours in Westerville. And that again is insignificant compared to those in Columbus, Blaine tells him, and Kurt learns that his father lives there.

"I wonder how many enter that store, expecting to find something else entirely," Blaine chuckles, and points at _Between the Sheets_. The windows are decorated with golden music bars, but it's easy to overlook if you focus entirely on the entrance door.

"Oh, Finn gave me a gift certificate there for Christmas. Could we go inside?"

"Of course," Blaine agrees. "But our parking time ends in five minutes, so I better go feed the metre first."

"I'll go with you," Kurt offers.

"I won't get lost," Blaine promises, and swats away Kurt's hand offering him some coins. "I've got it, silly," he smiles, that charming smile that makes Kurt's knees go all jelly.

"See you soon," Blaine says, making it sound like a promise, and rests his hand on Kurt's shoulder blades for a second before walking off.

Kurt jogs across the street after checking for traffic, and enters the shop with a chipper bell sounding from the door.

He's not looking for anything specific. At McKinley, with Mr. Schue's weekly assignments, he needed to go here all the time to get the music for the songs he wanted to do. But as the Warblers doesn't work like that, he hasn't been in here for a while. Maybe he should try to find a potential solo he can audition with next? Or maybe he should find a really demanding piece, to give himself more of a vocal challenge than the Warblers offers, to keep his voice at its peak?

With his right index finger, he touches each and every single musical-related sheet music. It's not exactly the biggest and best equipped section of the store, but they do have a decent selection. He stops at _I'll Cover You_ from Rent, and smiles fondly. Blaine and he went to see the performance, and mutedly mouthed to all of the songs. In the car on their way back home, they'd sung the songs together, including this duet. Kurt doesn't need a paper with the notes and bars for that song – he knows it by heart, and so did Blaine.

The next song he stops by, is _Music of the Night_, from The Phantom of the Opera. Now that's a song that would challenge him. But. It's over-used, safe. He likes to go his own path in music choices, and not do like everybody else does.

He keeps flipping through the plastic wrapped sheet music. He allows himself to be picky. There are also other sections in the shop that might interest him.

"I'm sorry," a voice startles Kurt, "but I just have to compliment you on that outfit. I'm sure people stop to tell you all the time, but that rhino broche is just spectacular!" an excited young man beams, grinning wildly. He's wearing glasses and a knitted cap, and radiates enthusiasm.

"Well, thank you and your impeccable taste," Kurt smiles back, slightly dumbfounded by the surprised attention and approach.

"I'm Chandler, by the way. Chandler Kiehl," the boy smiles widely, and gives Kurt his hand.

Kurt takes his hand to shake, and gives his name as well.

"I haven't seen you around before; believe me, I would have noticed," Chandler almost shouts, rolling on his feet.

"I'm from Lima, but I attend Dalton Academy in Westerville," Kurt explains, feeling no need to give this stranger his whole life story.

"Oh La La, Dalton boy, I see! I go to school here in Lima, but I'm getting out of Ohio as soon as possible. _There's nothing you can't do, Now you're in New York. These streets will make you feel brand new, Big lights will inspire you. Hear it for New York, New York, New York!"_ he sings. "I'm auditioning for NYU, and I wanted to sing _Rainbow High_," he explains animatedly, "but supposedly they ran out of the sheet music, and we know that is all lie!" he yells in the direction of the owner behind the counter.

"I want to go to New York too," Kurt can't help but laugh.

"Oooh, we Ohioans gotta stick together," Chandler says exaggeratedly, snapping a Z. "I'm so sorry, I'm easily excited," he blushes, and tries to stand still for a moment.

"It's OK, it's kind of refreshing," Kurt soothes him.

Kurt's head yanks in the direction of the door as the bell sounds, and he doesn't hear Chandler ask for his phone number.

"Hey," Blaine murmurs, and slide into Kurt's personal space. "I've fed the metre, so we can stay until we have to be at your parents' place for dinner. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, but dad called."

"No need to apologize," Kurt can't help but smile fondly at him, and soaks in the scent of _Blaine_, everything smelling clearer after he's been out in the cold. "I've been chatting with Chandler here. Blaine, meet Chandler," Kurt introduces the boys.

Blaine reaches a hand out towards Chandler.

"Hi, Blaine Anderson, nice to meet you," he says in that polite and charming voice he reserves for strangers, which lacks all the warmth and emotion he adds when he talks with Kurt and his friends.

Chandler introduces himself as well.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you…" he says apologetically to Kurt, doing some vague gesture. "Anyway, I need to look for my sheet music somewhere else. It was nice meeting you," he says to the both of them.

"Break a leg!" Kurt offers, and Chandler grins, promising they'll meet on stage in The Big Apple.

"He seems nice," Blaine says.

"He was. I'm not exactly spoiled with running into nice people in Lima, so that was a welcomed change," he says snarkily.

"Lima doesn't deserve you," Blaine says earnestly, casually bumping his shoulder against Kurt's. "So, what are you buying?" he hurriedly adds, and steps away to look through the music sheets in the bubblegum pop-section. Or, at least that's how Kurt categorizes those artists.

"I don't know; I'm just browsing," he says, stopping at random places to pick up a song, but then discharging it again. "I guess I'm waiting for inspiration to strike."

* * *

Almost an hour later, the boys leave the store with a paper bag each, and their new musical treasures.

"Are you sure you're up for dinner with dad and Carole? You can still leave, you know."

"Should I be nervous? Are you hiding anything about them?" Blaine asks playfully.

"God no, I love them to bits. But you might have better plans for a Saturday evening."

"I'd say spending time with you is pretty high on my list of things I enjoy," Blaine answers soberly.

Kurt is silent to really look at Blaine, watch him as he navigates the car through the familiar streets in Lima, the route he's taken several times before to pick up and drop off Kurt.

"You're delusional," Kurt eventually snorts.

"And still you hang out with me," Blaine grins satisfied.

"Touché!"

Blaine parks the car in the Hummel-Hudson's driveway.

"How does my hair look?" he asks worriedly, biting his lower lip.

"Blaine, have you met my dad? Does he strike you as a guy that cares about hair?"

"No, but…" Blaine's voice trails off, mumbling something unintelligible as he steps out of the car.

"Man up; you can do this," Kurt offers not so supportively. "They already like you, remember," he adds in a more comforting tone.

Kurt unlocks the door, and brings both of them inside.

"Kurt, so good to see you again," Carole laughs happily, and engulfs him in a warm hug. "You too, Blaine," she says, extending the embrace to him as well.

"Thank you for including me as well, Mrs. Hummel, and on such short notice," Blaine says gallantly.

"Carole," she reminds him. "And don't you worry, honey. Our boys often have friends coming over unannounced, so I always cook for more people just in case. And your dad really appreciates to micro leftovers when I work night shifts," she adds, talking to Kurt.

"Where is dad anyway?"

"He went to pick up Finn and Quinn. They should be here any minute."

True to her words, the car lights shine through the kitchen window seconds later, announcing their arrival.

"Hey guys, I didn't know you were coming," Finn smiles. "Quinn, you gotta come and see who's here!" he yells towards the hallway.

"It was a spontaneous decision," Kurt shrugs, and hugs his step brother.

"We're on a road trip to experience grand adventures," Blaine says as he fist bumps Finn.

"And you came to Lima? That's not very bad ass," Finn looks confused.

"Who wouldn't want to explore and get to experience Lima?" Quinn drawls, and slides up to hug Kurt. "Nice to meet you again, Blaine," she says, extending her hand.

Burt is the last to arrive.

"I've never been a fan of surprises, but this was a nice one," he pats Kurt's back. "Good to see you too, Blaine."

"Good evening, Mr. Hummel, thank you for having me over."

"I think you've earned the right to call me Burt by now," the older Hummel chuckles.

They sit down to enjoy Carole's delicious lasagne, and the conversation is surprisingly easy and relaxed, considering the unusual gathering of people.

"Hey Kurt, most of us are meeting up tomorrow to hang out. Why don't you join us?" Finn suggests.

"We're thinking about go bowling," Quinn adds.

"Although I really detest bowling, it would be nice to see all of you again. But I don't know. All that driving two days in a row?"

"Don't be like that, Kurt. You promised you wouldn't ditch us just because you transferred," Finn sighs, sounding hurt.

"That's not it. I love spending time with you guys, but it's easier if we can plan it in advance."

"Why don't you simply stay the night here?" Carole suggests. "Then you won't be doing any more driving than you planned. Blaine can stay too, of course, I'll make up the couch for him."

Kurt looks at Blaine, trying to hide his excitement to not influence the boy's answer.

"I wouldn't want to impose, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine says humbled.

"Carole," she says sternly, watching him straight in the eyes.

"Carole," Blaine repeats, ducking his head.

"And you're not imposing when you're invited."

"OK then. If Kurt wants to, I'd love to spend the night."

"Yes!" Kurt hisses excited, bouncing on his chair.

"Can Quinn stay the night too?" Finn asks eagerly.

"No!" Burt and Carole say as a chorus.

"That's so not fair," he grumbles, and Quinn jabs him with her elbow.

"Quinn doesn't live two hours away, she isn't your drive to get home, and we only have one couch," Carole explains calmly.

After cleaning up after dinner, they spend a couple of hours playing cards. Blaine turns out to be an ace in _500 Rummy_, while Burt knocks them all during _Crazy Eight_.

Eventually, Finn has to take Quinn home, so the card gaming dissolves, and Kurt takes Blaine to his room.

"I realize I haven't seen your room before. Have you decorated it yourself?"

"Don't you know me at all?" Kurt scoffs, but smiles playfully at him.

Blaine stands on the middle of the floor, taking the room in. The colours, the furniture, the trinkets and knick-knacks on the shelves.

"This room says a lot about you," Blaine says reverently, running a careful index finger along the DVDs that aren't brought to Dalton.

"Is it saying something you didn't already know?"

"Yes and no. Those things I didn't know, still fits with my image of you."

"Shoot. And to think I like to be a boy of surprises."

"Hey, it can still be a surprise even if it's fitting, you know? For instance, I'm surprised to see how many pictures there are in here, I didn't know that about you. But it's logical. You care about your friends and family, you like to dwell on good memories, and pictures are a way to remind you of that."

"Yeah, I haven't had the opportunity to put up a lot of pictures at Dalton yet. Although this amazing Santa Claus gave me a montage for Christmas, which I cherish."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes. I bet he's fabulous. I wish you could meet him one day. Maybe you could learn something about being a gentleman."

"Oh, is that so?" Blaine says louder, and attacks Kurt, pinning him to the bed. "Say I'm nice!"

"I guess you're nice," Kurt sighs. "But not much of a gentleman."

Blaine lets go of one of Kurt's hand to tickle him instead. Kurt squirms under him, laughing hysterically, and trying to tickle back, but Blaine has an advantage being on top, straddling Kurt so he can't move. Or, rather, intimidating Kurt to not move too much, being afraid of any indecent body contact.

"Hey, this is no fun," Blaine pouts, when Kurt tames his muscles to lie completely still, not showing Blaine how much it tickles anymore.

"I guess I could be bad ass," Blaine muses and gets off of Kurt, lying down next to him.

"Blaine, you're really not very gangsta'," Kurt objects, roaring on the last word.

Blaine chuckles, and they lie in comfortable silence for a while.

"Thank you for staying. I know this can't be the kind of weekend you planned, and I really appreciate it."

"Kurt, are you kidding me? I've had a wonderful day, and I'm looking forward for tomorrow as well. I love spending time with you, I hope you know that?"

At his questioning stare, Kurt nods.

"And your family is great. Sharing dinner with you, and being allowed to take part in your family traditions – that's great."

"But tonight was nothing special. We just played cards."

"Sure, objectively it was only two decks of cards to have some fun with. But you let me in on your jokes and teasing, you showed me how much this family loves each other, but also how easy it is for you to let in other people, like Quinn and me. I… I haven't had a functional family in many years, Kurt, so this was actually kind of special for me, to witness and experience again."

"Oh…"

"Yes, oh. You know, Coop and mom moved, so it's been just my dad and I for the last… what? Five years? Occasionally he'll bring _a lady friend_ for dinner, but he hasn't settled down with anyone. Why do you think I spend most weekends at Dalton or with you?"

"I never thought about it…" Kurt says sadly.

"Don't be sad; I'm not. I'm used to it. But being here tonight, that means a lot to me. I hope you know what a great family you have, how lucky you are, and remember to cherish it."

"I know. I do."

"Good."

Blaine takes his hand and gives it a firm squeeze.

"Movie time?"

"Movie time. Why don't you pick something, and I'll change to my pyjamas in the meantime. My best DVDs are at Dalton, but you should find something," Kurt says, as he rummages through his drawers among the clothes he left behind. "Oh, maybe you'd need something to sleep in too…"

Kurt offers Blaine some pyjamas pants.

"Do you want the pyjamas top or a t-shirt? I don't know how warm you like to be when you sleep…"

"A t-shirt should be fine. I tend to radiate a lot of heat even when I'm far gone in dreamland."

They take turn changing in the bathroom, before settling down with pillows and a shared blanket in the bed to watch Blaine's choice.

The movie is almost done when Burt pops by.

"Carole's made the couch for Blaine downstairs."

"Again, thank you so much for having me, Mr… _Burt_."

"Our pleasure, Blaine. You just make sure to take my kid on more adventurous road trips in the future, and end them in Lima so he can visit his old man," Burt grins.

"He may be on to me by then, but I promise to do my best," Blaine chuckles.

"Kid is still in the room!" Kurt waves his arms and scoffs. "And I forbid the two of you to gang up to make plans behind my back. Not acceptable."

"Is he this bossy at Dalton as well?"

"Umm, we manage," Blaine says shyly, looking at said boy. "Barely," he adds, in a stage whisper.

If he hadn't pulled his eyes away from Kurt to look at the older Hummel, he might have been able to duck from the incoming pillow hitting him square in the face.

* * *

"Dude, Blaine's sleeping in the living room?" Finn groggily comments as he slumps down by the kitchen counter.

"That would be correct," Kurt agrees while flipping over a pancake.

"But he doesn't live here…"

"You really don't do well in mornings before you've had any food, now do you?"

"There's this connection between my tummy and my brain," Finn mumbles, stumbling over to the refrigerator.

"What are you looking for?"

"Coffee," he says, voice still tinted with sleep.

"Enough said," Kurt sighs, and pours a big mug of coffee for his brother. "If and when your mental capacities return, would you help me set the table?"

Five minutes later, Finn places his mug in the dish washer and steals some of the bacon Kurt had been frying.

"Mmm…" he moans. "I feel like a complete person."

"Does that mean you're able to set the table?" Kurt says teasingly.

"It sure does. Oh man, I remember why Blaine's here – you'll be joining us afterwards. That's awesome, the others are gonna be so surprised!"

"You haven't told them I'm home?"

"Now where's the fun in that?" Finn grins, making Kurt laugh as well.

"Good mooorning," someone yawns from the door. "Are there anything I can do for you?"

Kurt has to hold back a gasp. Blaine can rock the Dalton uniform. He was really handsome in his suit at the Christmas Ball. And he has a lot of amazing outfits, including what they bought yesterday. And even though they've woken up together before, Kurt can't have been able to appreciate this sight for his sore eyes. There's a post-sleep softness over Blaine's face, but a barely there pattern from the pillow on his cheek, his eyes are still narrowed and squinted against the sharp kitchen light, his hair is all over the place, and he's awkwardly holding up the slightly too long legs of the pyjamas pants to avoid stepping on them. Kurt has a sudden desire to close the few feet of distance to kiss him, wish him good morning, and make him promise all of Kurt's mornings will be like this.

Which is ridiculous, of course.

"Morning, man. Here," Finn offers, prodding a steaming mug to Blaine's receptive hands.

"Good morning, Blaine," Kurt says softly, once he has gained control over his voice and urges.

* * *

"Where's Rachel?"

Said girl is the only one missing. Everybody else from New Directions is gathered for bowling, including Kurt and Blaine.

"She had to prepare for a date," Mercedes grins wickedly.

"A date?" Kurt almost yells. He looks at Finn, who's dating Quinn, and Puck, who's sort-of-dating Lauren. "With who?"

"She wouldn't tell!" Mercedes giggles scandalized.

"Oh gosh, it better not be Jesse St. James again," Tina groans.

To make things easier and faster, they've split up in two teams. And to Kurt's delight, nobody suggested splitting up girls versus boys, which Mr. Schue is so fond of doing. Instead they made a priority of keeping couples together. One team consists of Tina, Mike, Mercedes, Sam, Kurt and Blaine, while Finn, Quinn, Puck, Lauren, Santana, Brittany and Artie make up the other team. Losers are buying the other team pizza, but they'll let the average score settle the match to compensate for the second team having one more player. Kurt had to admit he was curious to see how Artie would be able to participate, but it turns out he has wicked strength in his arms, and ridiculous aim from a sitstill. Having Artie on the team may be more of an advantage than anything else.

Damn.

Blaine is doing a silly victory dance after landing a strike, and Kurt can't help but let his eyes roam over him, until he turns around. A sigh escapes from his chest.

"I hear thee, brother," Mercedes leans over to whisper in his ear, laughing at him.

She gets up to chase the pins, and Blaine takes her seat.

"Congratulations!"

"Thank you! I was lucky; I thought I dropped the ball."

Kurt just rolls his eyes. It's so typical of Blaine not being able to take a compliment for what it is.

"Can you text Wes and ask him inconspicuously if he has any plans tonight?"

"Why can't you do that? And why are you wondering?"

"You're close friends; it would seem random if I asked him. I have a theory about him, but I need proof. I'll tell you more later."

"You sure know how to make a guy curious," Blaine shakes his head in amusement, but retrieves his phone from his pocket.

Kurt's up next, so he takes his preferred ball. Gracefully as a dancer he leaps, and lets go of the ball. It spins along the polished floor, twirling, sliding slightly towards left, straightening up its direction again, nailing eight of the ten pins. Leaving Kurt with a headache inducing split.

He crosses one foot over the other, tilts his hip, and rests his hand on his waist, while pondering on what to do. He knows he can't take them both, so he'll have to choose one of them. He looks from one to the other, and back to the first again. He shifts, balancing on the other foot. And then he makes a decision, takes a rushed 180, picks up his ball, and aims for the pin on the left side. Because that's where the heart is.

Mike offers him a high five when they pass each other. At least Kurt nailed them nine points.

When Blaine is by the lane again, Mercedes leans over to whisper in Kurt's ear.

"You might want to know that he keeps checking you out at least as much as you him. Just saying," she winks.

Kurt takes a deep breath. Part of him wants to tell her about the conversation they had, and how they have come to a sort of mutual understanding that they like each other, but are taking things really slow until Blaine feels ready. But he doesn't want to betray Blaine's trust. Besides, he's not sure if Mercedes can understand what Kurt and Blaine have had to deal with, and will have to further deal with if they start dating.

But it is good to know that Blaine is watching him too, though. It's a nice confirmation and reminder, and it doesn't hurt his ego either.

Blaine lands a spare, and rejoins his team to receive congratulations. He's overshadowed by Tina, however, who nails a strike. Mike instantly jumps up from his seat to kiss her, and pulls her down unto his lap.

Kurt knows he's starring longingly at them, but he can't help it. Why can they show affection like that, without anyone batting an eye, when he can't?

As if Blaine's reading his mind, he takes his hand. Or maybe it's just to get his attention.

"Are you having a good time?"

"I am. I really am," he says, watching from the corner of his eye how Finn and Puck chest bumps after one of them got a strike. "And you?"

Blaine nods and smiles.

"Your friends are great. I like them a lot. They're insane, no doubt about it. But I like them," he laughs.

Blaine still hasn't let go of his hand, and Kurt is having difficulties breathing. Because they are in a really public place in Homophobicville, among Kurt's merciless and randomly perceptive friends, and Blaine still holds his hand. Kurt could cry. Because this has to mean that Blaine is trying, right? That he's really trying to be as brave and strong he thinks he needs to be, he's trying to be better – for them?

"I'm going to get something to drink. Can I get you anything?"

"A diet coke would actually be great now."

"Got it," Blaine smiles, pats Kurt's thigh, and gets up before he can give him his wallet.

"You're too cute together," Tina says conspiratorially, and plops down where Blaine sat.

"Tina, can you be my accomplice?"

"Of course," she beams, radiating curiousness.

"I need you to find out as much as possible about Rachel's date, and report back to me."

"Of course. But why? And why are you changing the topic?"

"Do you trust me if I say I can't tell you yet?"

"Always". She holds up her pinkie, and he links his with her, and they giggle like the teenagers they are.

Then Kurt's next to chase after some points for his team, and he gets up. After seven rounds he finally manages his first strike, and he skips gleefully back to his chair. Blaine's just come back, and spontaneously hugs him to congratulate. A shiver runs down Kurt's spine, and he tries to tell himself it's merely because he can feel the cold on his back from the two soda cups Blaine is carrying.

The hug is short, but it's still something Kurt can live by for the next month, he thinks.

"I got a reply from Wes," Blaine tells him when they sit down again. Kurt takes his cup, so Blaine can get the phone out, and prods the straw through the lid.

_I'm meeting someone to go to the movies, and then dinner._

"That sounds like a date," Kurt muses.

"I wonder why he won't say who he's meeting."

"I can think of a reason or two…"

* * *

In the end, Kurt's team actually wins the epic bowling battle. That may be primarily because Lauren and Puck were busy insulting each other and mess around, like they usually do in their odd relationship, and hence sabotaging each other's bowling scores.

Naturally, they end up at Breadstix for the pizza – where else could they eat? They probably upset the staff and ruin their work flow when they re-furniture the restaurant to make a table big enough for all 13 of them. Kurt ends up between Blaine and Tina, with Santana and Brittany across him. He just _knows_ that Santana will crack some crude comment about Blaine being there.

"So, is the Pretty Pony still gay?" she purrs.

And there she goes.

Brittany looks expectant at Blaine, Blaine looks confused, and Kurt tells him he's the "pretty pony" through the corner of his mouth.

"Oh. Yes. Yes I am. I hardly think it'll ever change," he adds, still looking slightly bewildered by her.

"Some of us are more fluent than others," Santana shrugs. "So, tapping that yet?" she continues, nodding at Kurt.

Both boys blush and stutter various negatives.

"Such a waste," she smirks.

"So how are Brittany and you doing?" Kurt finally manages to retort, and that's the last they hear from Santana that evening. The sad, longing looks she keeps shooting Brittany tells them all they could need to know, though. Maybe they all are more similar than they have thought.

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Alicia Keys – _Empire State of Mind (Part II) Broken Down_

* * *

**AN: So, to make it clear - I don't know GAP, I have never been to a GAP (they aren't in my country), and my dishing out on them here is purely fictional and done for the cause of the plot. For all I know, their clothes may be amazing._  
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	33. Sink or Swim

**AN: Thank you so much to Nightingale63 for helping me with input to the medical part of this chapter!**

**This chapter was planned before I saw the episode **_**Yes/No**_** of season 3, so some things in this chapter will be completely off from that one. But hey, this story does indeed stray from canon more than once, so I hope you can deal with it.****  
**

**Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and feedback, and thank you for following this story, my faithful readers!  
**

**And, I'd like to wish all of you a Happy New Year - may 2013 fulfill some of your wishes and give you pleasant surprises!  
**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything, just enjoy playing with other people's master works.  
**

* * *

"Kurt, wait up!"

Blaine hurries to catch up with the boy, but his call doesn't slow him down. Kurt leaves the door to his room open, though, and Blaine takes it as an acceptance of his presence, and slips in right after Kurt. He carefully closes the door, just in time to see Kurt dive face first onto his bed, without even taking his shoes off. He puffs his cheeks and exhales slowly into his pillow, and Blaine can hear the muffled scream.

"What got you so upset?" Blaine asks softly, sitting gently down on the mattress next to Kurt. "Did Mr. Andrews say anything?"

Mr. Andrews is their teacher for Phys. Ed, which was their last class today. When it was over, Mr. Andrews had dismissed all of them, except Kurt. Because of the cast, this was his first Phys. Ed-class at Dalton, and their teacher wanted a brief talk. Being the good and supporting friend Blaine is, he'd hung back to wait for Kurt, but made sure to stay out of hearing reach. He'd never gotten the chance to ask Kurt what their teacher wanted, though, as the taller boy had briskly walked away from the teacher, passed Blaine without acknowledging him, increasing his pace until he was running through the hallways of Dalton. And one simply does not run in Dalton hallways.

Kurt sighs, loudly, and curls his arms around his pillow. Then he huffs. Blaine tries not to jump to a worst case scenario and worry, but it's difficult to avoid when he sees how upset Kurt is. From Blaine's experience, the teaching staff at Dalton is nothing but fair and supportive, and he's never heard or seen even the slightest hint of homophobic behaviour. So he's honestly quite confused about what can have brought Kurt to this state.

"I've been a cheerleader. I dance regularly with the Warblers, and did even more complicated choreography back at McKinley. Sometimes I do yoga on my own. I eat healthy, and I have good knowledge about how the body works. I think I'm fairly fit and in good shape."

Blaine hums an affirmative, and Kurt rolls over to lie on his side. Blaine is glad the boy is talking so readily without any prompting, and decides to keep silent and give Kurt the chance to empty his heart for now. When Kurt mentions his body being fit, Blaine can't help but let his eyes quickly roam over Kurt's slender, strong, defined and elegant body, and his memory brings him several flashes of Kurt dancing and showing admirable coordination and control of his movements.

"And the things is, I really, really like being at Dalton," he continues sadly. "I think I'm getting a better grasp on the academics, I survived the exams, I have friends here and can find most classrooms without getting lost."

"That's good?" Blaine sounds more hesitant than reassuring; he's waiting for the other shoe's inevitable drop.

"So that's why it's going to suck telling dad I'm transferring back to McKinley."

Blaine's heart literally stops beating for a moment.

"You're what? There has to be something you're not telling me? Please tell me I'm missing some important piece in this puzzle. Why are you leaving, Kurt?"

Blaine is talking fast and the sharp edges of his cracking heart aches in his chest. He isn't ready to let go of Kurt, not now, not yet.

"Kurt?" he says again, taking his hand.

"I'm flunking PE.," Kurt mutters. "I'll pass at McKinley…"

"Kurt," Blaine says sounding less flustered and more amused. "How can you flunk a class after only one week?" Blaine squeezes his hand encouragingly. There are months left of the semester, surely they can still save this.

"Mr. Andrews told me about the requirements for his class…" Kurt mumbles morosely.

"And?" Blaine gently prods.

"If I can't do three laps in the pool by the end of the semester, I'll flunk," Kurt sighs resigned.

"Didn't you have a pool at McKinley?"

"Of course," Kurt scoffs. "And it's empty. Principal Figgins didn't find room in his budget for water and maintenance."

"But your family must have taken you to the beach, at least?" Blaine says in a positive tone, refusing to accept this as a hopeless situation.

"Blaine, please, look at me!" Kurt rolls his eyes at his friend. "I don't like the sand and I don't like the heat, I can't swim and my skin can't take the sun. So pray tell, why should I have been visiting the beach?"

"Ah, how foolish of me. I hope you can forgive my dire mistake," Blaine says gravely, tilting his head and giving the other boy the look which Coop once dubbed _the dangerous puppy eyes_.

"Maybe…" Kurt huffs, but gives Blaine a teasing smile.

"So you can't swim, then?" Blaine carefully asks, and Kurt's smile disappears.

"I can't swim," Kurt concludes.

"We'll think of something," Blaine smiles reassuringly, and gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. "Is it OK if I hit the shower first? I feel really gross after all the running Mr. Andrews made us do."

Now that he knows what's chewing Kurt, there's nothing more he can say or do at the moment. He has some thinking to do, though.

"Sure," Kurt mumbles. "I'm not quite done hosting my pity party yet anyway."

"Just… Don't call your dad or do something harebrained, OK?"

Kurt rolls over and groans in his pillow, but nods when Blaine firmly repeats his question.

* * *

"Lastly, the girls at St. Elizabeth's have invited us to their Valentine's party," Wes informs the Warblers, whacking the gavel on the table repeatedly to calm down the excited boys. "The actual Valentine's Day is on a Tuesday, so the girls are hosting their party the Saturday before."

"We think we should prepare a performance to… ah, _woo_ the girls," Thad smirks.

The Warblers start shouting out suggestions to breathtaking ballads, dashing duets, romantic rock and playful pop.

"I don't care about wooing," Seth complains loudly. "I want sex."

"Yeah!" Cameron agrees. "Give us sexy, sultry songs!"

"To perform for your girlfriend, who in fact isn't attending St. Elizabeth's?" David asks pointedly.

Cameron has the decency to blush and look down.

"Not all of us have a significant other for Valentine's Day," Trent pipes up. "If we show off our sexiness, maybe that'd change."

"Or at least we'd get laid," Seth adds.

The three council members scoot their chairs closer to quickly debate the incoming suggestion.

"It is our conviction that the Warblers could earn from trying another style, and it would provide valuable performance experience for Regionals. The suggestion is therefore granted, on the condition we can come up with a decent set list, worthy of Dalton moral and standards," Wes lets them know, and the room erupts in cheers and hollers.

"The girls won't know what hit them!" someone yells excitedly from the back of the room.

"Warblers; we'd like to remind you of our code of ethics and the gentlemanly behaviour Dalton expects from us. You are not to bring shame to this school," David says sternly, and the room calms down somewhat.

* * *

To say that Kurt's surprised by Flora texting him, is a blatant understatement. The girl had seemed so shy and introvert both during the Christmas Ball and at David's New Year's Party. Kurt had felt he'd almost thrown his phone number after the girl, but it was obvious that she was struggling and could need somebody to talk with. No matter what's going on in her life, a pair of listening ears could never be wrong. Kurt didn't want to force himself on her, though, so he'd been patiently waiting for her to take the first step, losing more and more hope for each silent day that she'd ever reach out a hand and ask for him.

Yet, here he is sitting across her by a table in a coffee shop halfway between their schools. He's taking tiny sips of his mug, to make it last longer, giving her space to approach this at her own liking. They've already been through the "hi, good to see you again, how was the rest of your Christmas break?"-exchange.

It becomes painfully obvious that Flora doesn't have much to contribute for their conversation, though, and Kurt can't remember the last time he was in a comparably awkward situation. He really doesn't know the girl, and hasn't got the slightest idea how he should initiate their talk. Should he address the elephant he is pretty confident is her feelings for Lana, or should he talk about the latest movie Johnny Depp is doing?

"Are you coming to our Valentine's party?"

Kurt nods.

"The Warblers are eager to perform for you," he assures her.

"We're preparing some amazing numbers too," she smiles softly.

He cajoles her into talking more about the songs they are considering, how they practice, what dance routines they have, and other habits. Not because he is spying – the Warblers know the Passerines in and out, anyway. Kurt just wants to make the girl talk.

"So, do you have a date yet?" Kurt asks nonchalantly.

"No," she responds immediately.

"Anyone you'd want to ask?" he continues, hoping she understands she can talk with him about this.

She hesitates, looking downcast at the paper napkin she's absentmindedly tearing to pieces.

"I can't," she mumbles.

"There are always other parties," Kurt shrugs. "Valentine's Day is fairly overrated anyway."

She gives him a brief half smile.

* * *

Kurt plops unceremoniously down next to Blaine in his bed, giving a theatrical sigh to gain his neighbour's attention.

"Hey, where have you been?"

Success.

"I'm apparently subbing as a counselor."

"I hear most counselors have their own therapists. Will I do?" Blaine offers.

Kurt nods, stretching out in Blaine's bed. Blaine turns over to his side, holding his note book and pen as if he'll take notes from their session.

"I had coffee with Flora."

"Ah," Blaine says knowingly.

"What do you know?" Kurt asks carefully, not wanting to risk outing the potentially maybe-not-so-straight-after-all girl.

"I know she's struggling coming to terms with something in her life," Blaine says carefully.

Kurt notices Blaine uses the same words as when he came to McKinley to help him confront Karofsky, and Kurt feels confident they're on the same page.

"I'm not sure how I can best help her. I'm not exactly used to being Gay Yoda."

"Don't look at me; I'm the one who advised you to confront Karofsky…"

"And you have to stop feeling guilty about the aftermath, neither of us could have predicted that," Kurt says sternly. "I'll think more about Flora later," he sighs. "I've got the latest Vogue; do you want to read with me?"

"And to think you recently crowned _me_ king of stupid questions," Blaine teases, but turns over on his stomach as Kurt does the same.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm well aware that you would want to read the magazine. I simply wondered if you'd read it now, with me, as I couldn't help but notice the Latin homework in your lap."

"Latin Schmatin; the language's been dead for decades, it can wait some more," he says, and flips through the pages to the first article.

"Tsk, such maturity," Kurt frowns, although he's well aware of how much Blaine loves learning the classic, intellectual and historical language.

They've been reading for a while, when Blaine's phone interrupts them from its position on the desk. Blaine's reaction is instant, and he climbs over Kurt to get out of the bed.

"I have to take this," he says apologetically to Kurt, as he walks into their bathroom.

Kurt wonders who can make Blaine literally jump to attention like that. He doesn't need to ponder that question for long, before Blaine comes back, though. He looks excited, so the phone call must have been good news.

"Sorry about that. It was my dad, so I had to answer."

"No need to apologize," Kurt smiles and nods.

"He made me think, though, and I got a great idea for how I can help you with the swimming problem," Blaine beams giddily.

"Okay…" Kurt drawls, wondering what the older Anderson possibly could have said that somehow dealt with him flunking Phys. Ed.

"Do you trust me?" Blaine asks excitedly, and Kurt is helpless in front of his eagerness. When Blaine sits next to him and takes his hand, there's only one answer to that question.

"Of course," he says softly, willing his heart rate down.

"Excellent! Then you're spending the weekend in Columbus with me. We leave tomorrow, after Warblers' rehearsal."

* * *

The Council may regret ever introducing the Warblers to Casual Friday after this particular Friday's rehearsal. Or they may regret accepting _sexy_ as their theme for the Valentine's party at St. Elizabeth's.

After an hour of practice, they've been listening to more sleazy rather than sexy performances.

Seth volunteered to sing both _I'm Too Sexy_ and _I Want Your Sex_, thrusting his pelvis and grinding into the air enough to make both Elvis and Britney Spears embarrassed. Then Nick and Jeff jumped up to make a duet of _Pour Some Sugar On Me_.

After several horribly suggestive, and also plenty of straight forward sex songs, Wes uses his gavel to calm the room down, and urges them to take their task more seriously.

The room erupts in hollers and cheers when David calmly stands up from his chair, clearly improvising and letting them know that _Baby I'm hot just like an oven, I need some lovin'_.

* * *

Kurt can't be annoyed with Blaine, but still he'd like more details about what they're doing this weekend. Blaine had merely said he didn't need to bring anything special, the car ride to their destination would take roughly 45 minutes, and that was about it.

According to Kurt's phone, they've been driving for 44 minutes, and he expects them to arrive anytime soon, wherever they are headed.

Blaine's shoulders are shaking, and he's biting his lower lip, but muffled chuckles escape him anyway.

"What's so funny?" Kurt glares at him.

"You," Blaine readily admits. "You're an impatient control freak, you're sulking in your seat and you've been giving me some kind of silent treatment for the last ten minutes because I didn't answer your last question about where we're headed."

"I sound like quite a peach," Kurt snorts.

"I'll survive," Blaine chuckles. "I guess I'll have to accept the bad, when there are so much good that comes along with it."

He briefly turns his head towards Kurt and smiles, before directing his eyes on the road again. Kurt's heart stutters and he can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Blaine exits the road, and turns the car into a street. A ruler straight line of oak trees divides the two lanes, with clearings every 100 feet to allow access to the houses on the other side.

Or rather, mansions. Even though it's dusking, Kurt can clearly see the big buildings along the street. This area screams money, and lots of it too. There are a handful of three stories tall stone buildings that seem to have been converted into smaller apartments. But mostly there are white painted villas secluded behind tall fences and or plump hedges. It reminds him of the little he saw of David's neighbourhood when they spent New Year's Eve at his place.

"Did you know David before you came to Dalton?"

"Columbus is a big city," Blaine chuckles. "I knew of his family, and our fathers have probably been in the same social circles, maybe even done business together at some point. But I didn't get to know David until Dalton."

Blaine slows down the car, and stops completely in front of an iron gate. He pushes the button to lower his window, and Kurt notices a panel on the concrete post connecting the gate to the fence. Blaine swiftly enters a code, Kurt thinks it may be five or six numbers, and closes the window again. Two seconds later, the gate slowly splits in two and opens up.

Kurt is speechless, starring at the surroundings as Blaine's car crawls along a paved avenue. There are no traces of snow or ice, and Kurt suspects some kind of heating system to keep it clear.

The avenue ends in front of a double garage, but Blaine parks the car outside.

"So… We're here," he says shyly, as if he's uncertain how Kurt will feel about this.

"You live here?"

"I live at Dalton," Blaine teases, but still sounding hesitant. "This is my father's house, yes."

"Well, I guess it's warmer than your car, so…" Kurt shrugs, unbuckles the seat belt, and steps out of the car.

Blaine follows his actions immediately, and pops the trunk open for their weekend bags.

They walk up to a light blue two storeys villa. Surrounded by a snow covered garden and bathed in moonlight, it seems almost magical. There are lights searing out of most of the windows. The entrance is five steps up, and a big porch with a roof makes a welcoming sight. A Christmas wreath is still decorating the door, and two big urns with evergreens are pierced on top of the stairs.

"This looks cosy," Kurt comments, as Blaine rummages his satchel for his house keys.

"Thank you," he answers absentmindedly, hands full of papers, pens, chopstick and a half full water bottle. "There!" he grins triumphantly, and presents the key. "I don't understand why they always end up under everything else."

"I would believe it has to do with gravity," Kurt answers solemnly, and Blaine sticks out his tongue at him. "Oh, really mature, Anderson!"

He laughs out loud and opens the door, beckoning for Kurt to join him.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Is it OK if we head for the kitchen first?"

"I could eat," Kurt sing-songs in agreement.

Blaine leaves their bags in the hallway, and leads the way to the kitchen. The hallway is quite wide, but short, with three doors to choose between. Blaine opens the one to the far right, taking them directly to the kitchen.

The building must be more than 100 years old, and the kitchen has kept some of the old fashioned charm. The cupboards are old, but well kept. The floor is made of black and white tiles in a checked pattern.

"I told my dad we'd be coming, so he made sure we have food. Ella, our housekeeper, has gone home for the day, but I hope we can manage to cook something edible?"

"Your housekeeper?"

"Yeah, Ella is amazing!" Blaine gushes. "She makes the most amazing apple tart, and if I'm a really good boy she has this delicious chocolate milkshake. Mmm…" Blaine hums with eyes closed.

Kurt still can't wrap his mind around the idea of Blaine having a housekeeper, but the growl from his stomach settles his priorities.

"What do you want?" Blaine laughs, and pokes Kurt's stomach.

_You_, Kurt's brain and heart reply.

"What are the options?" his vocal chords reply.

Blaine opens both the pantry and the fridge, starring at the brimming shelves.

"We have… A lot of things that probably can make a decent meal," he says vaguely, gesturing at the content.

"You don't often cook, do you?" Kurt arches an eyebrow.

Blaine shakes his head, looking embarrassed.

"Ella's always been here, making dinner for us. Then I transferred to Dalton. I make a mean peanut butter jelly sandwich, and a killer hot chocolate. But that's about all I know how to cook."

"That's hardly cooking," Kurt scoffs. "Luckily for you, I ace home ec with my hands tied to my back, and have been making dinner at home for several years. Now scoot and I'll see what we can pull together," Kurt smiles, and hip bumps Blaine away from the fridge.

He quickly calculates the inventory, before reaching a conclusion.

"How do you feel about Italian pizza? I'll make two smaller ones, so we can have individual toppings."

"My mouth waters," Blaine smiles. "Let me be your kitchen assistant; make me useful."

"I only need flour, water, yeast, salt and olive oil for the dough. But if you could set the oven to 500, pick your toppings and grate some cheese?"

"Consider it done," Blaine salutes, knocking his naked heels together, and getting into action.

The pizzas only need fifteen minutes in the oven, so Blaine gives Kurt a quick tour of the first floor. The kitchen leads to the dining room, with some magnificent furniture. A stunning oak table that easily takes twelve dinner guests is pierced under a gleaming crystal chandelier. A set of double doors with big glass windows leads to a lounge. Kurt hasn't got time to take in all details as Blaine rushes him through the rooms, but at least he sees the fire place, the glass coffee table, the brown leather couch, the deep armchairs, the upright piano, and the grandfather clock. A cabinet with glass doors obviously stocks a myriad of alcoholic beverages and crystal glasses for various drinks and fluids.

"In there's my dad's home office," Blaine says, pointing at one door and opening another set of double doors.

He takes Kurt into a dark room. Blaine pushes some buttons on a panel, and curtains draped across three fourths of the semi circled room are automatically pulled to two sides. They reveal glass walls and ceiling, and the room is somewhat illuminated by the moon and the stars. A Victorian chaiselong draped with peach velvet takes up some of the wall. In front of it is a wooden coffee table on wheels. Next to the doors, against the wall, is a big book shelf, and Kurt notices there isn't a single book there, but plenty of DVDs. On the opposite side of the doors, is a 46 inch flat screen mounted to the wall, which previously was hidden behind the curtains. And of course in the window stills are lots and lots of green plants, orchids, rose bushes, and even a lemon tree.

"Is it OK if we eat in here? I though we could watch a movie, perhaps? I have a TV in my room as well, but I wanted to show you this room, at least let you have a peak at it," Blaine rambles.

"It's more than OK," Kurt laughs, touching Blaine's shoulder to get through to him. "It's a lovely room; I'll gladly spend time in here. And the timer is trying to tell us the pizzas are done," he adds.

Blaine yelps and runs back to the kitchen, Kurt laughingly following him.

Ten minutes later, they are sitting cross legged in the chaiselong with their pizzas and something to drink, and season one of _How I Met Your Mother_ in the DVD-player. Because they can't really remember the first episodes of the popular show any longer.

Three episodes and two pizzas later, Blaine turns off the TV.

"I want to show you the best part of this room," he whispers.

He stretches out on the chaiselong, and gestures for Kurt to lie down beside him. It really isn't big enough for two persons to lie next to each other, but they manage. Neither boy is particularly big, and neither boy mind lying this close. They are shoulder against shoulder, hand against hand, knee against knee.

"Look," Blaine whispers reverently, starring at the ceiling.

Kurt copies his actions, and as he stares through the ceiling, he understands. Lying there, gazing up at the moon and the stars, it feels as if they're right above his head. He raises one arm as if he can touch them. He can't, and the hand falls down across his stomach.

"It's beautiful," he exhales, never moving his eyes away from the dark sky and the bright lights so far, far away.

The silence between them is comfortable, comforting. Both boys can feel the heat from the other against them, and the feeling of togetherness and tranquillity lulls them both.

It's close to midnight when Kurt abruptly wakes up, finding himself rapidly approaching the floor. He yelps as he falls, and Blaine's tired face looks down at him from the chaiselong.

"It isn't comfortable to sleep on the floooor," he yawns.

"You don't say, Sherlock…"

"We better find our beds," Blaine murmurs, and steps onto the floor. He offers Kurt a hand to get up. Kurt knows he could easily get up by himself, but accepts the hand anyway. Anything else would be plain rude, right?

They gather their bags and climb up the stairs.

"Ella has prepared the guest room for you," Blaine stops in front of a door, opening it halfway for Kurt. "You'll find a bathroom through that door. It's neither grand nor luxurious, but it covers the basics," he says apologetically. "My room is by the end of the hall. Don't hesitate to come if you need anything, OK?"

Kurt nods, and they agree on a time to get up the next morning before going separate ways.

The guest room is nice and neutral. A queen sized bed is made with fresh linen and soft pillows. Kurt still feels tired despite his sudden awakening from their nap, and hurriedly changes into pyjamas, brushes his teeth and rushes through his moisturizing scheme, before getting all warm and comfortable under the covers. It doesn't take long until he's fast asleep again.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Blaine asks excitedly, as he cleans up the kitchen after their breakfast.

"For what?" Kurt asks, looking confused.

"Solving your swimming problem, silly," Blaine beams, bumping his shoulder teasingly against Kurt's.

"I still don't understand what your plan is, and how taking me to your home could help," he shrugs, playing it cool, but Blaine knows him too well by now. He can see how Kurt is biting part of his lower lip as he talks, he can see his eyes darting around as if he's looking for the answer to pop up, and he sees him tapping his foot rapidly in the air sitting cross legged on a stool by the kitchen island. Kurt is bordering on frustrated and annoyed with him, because he hates being left in the dark, and he detests surprises. Blaine is having the time of his life, though, because he's confident this will please Kurt in the end.

"Would I be completely off the mark if I take a guess on you not owning a pair of swimming shorts?"

Kurt snorts.

"Why would I own such a piece of clothing?"

"To pass Phys. Ed., perhaps?" Blaine says cockily, and he knows he's a brat.

"I think Mr. Andrews expects more than just showing up in swimming clothes, although I could without doubt make sure to be the most fashionable one," Kurt glares at him.

"Come on, then," Blaine grins, takes Kurt's hand and yanks him off of the stool.

They run up the stairs and Blaine gestures for Kurt to wait in the hallway.

"But I want to see your room," Kurt whines.

"You can see it later when we don't have important business to take care of."

Blaine gives Kurt a firm look, before closing the door to his room behind him. He'd found the things Kurt would need last night before going to bed, so he quickly retrieves the bundle of clothes on his desk, and slips out into the hallway again.

"Put these on and meet me here in five minutes," he orders, giving him a pair of sweatpants and swimming shorts. He can't imagine Kurt having packed sweatpants, so he'll have to do with one of Blaine's, even though it'll be somewhat short on him.

"You really don't know me at all if you think I'll leave this house wearing anything like this."

"I think I know you pretty well, and you will be wearing that for where I'm taking you," Blaine smiles crookedly.

"What if I refuse? Are you going to dress me?"

Blaine absentmindedly shakes his head to erase some intriguing mental pictures involving Kurt and clothes, rather removal of clothes.

"Remember that bet I won?"

"No…" Kurt drawls, blushing, and Blaine knows he's lying.

"Yes, you do. I earned the right to dictate your attire for a week. I hereby claim my right to decide your clothes for today, as one seventh of my prize."

"You suck," Kurt mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, love you to," Blaine slips out, and he could bite his tongue if it took the words back. It's not as if the words are false, but they aren't entirely true either. He's pretty sure he cares enough about Kurt to say he loves him as a friend. But he also thinks that he's a boy he could fall in love with. But that's not how he'd imagine telling him that.

Fortunately for Blaine, Kurt seems to take no special notice of the mockery slash declaration.

"Five minutes," he repeats sternly, and slips into his room again to change, choosing to ignore Kurt's groans, protests and demands to be let in on Blaine's plans.

Ten minutes later Blaine knocks on the door to the guest room, wearing swim shorts under a pair of Dalton sweatpants and a green tank top.

"Kurt, your five minutes are up, I might come in!" Blaine warns through the door.

Kurt yanks the door open immediately.

"How do you expect me to get ready, when I don't know what's going on?" he bites, and Blaine almost feels sorry for him. The boy is wearing the sweatpants Blaine gave him, and a plain white t-shirt with a v-neck.

"You look ready; let's go," Blaine shrugs, and takes Kurt's hand to walk them downstairs.

"Blaine…" Kurt says in a low voice, and there's a trace of fear there that Blaine hasn't heard earlier today. That's not funny anymore. Kurt really must hate not knowing what's going on. Blaine should have realized how important it is for the boy to be in control, and how uncomfortable this makes him.

He turns around to face the other boy, not letting go of his hand.

"I promise you'll be fine. Do you trust me?"

Kurt hardly takes a moment to inhale before answering.

"I sometimes wonder why. But I do."

Blaine can't help but smile at Kurt's words. It means so, so much to him. Being trusted, knowing that someone dares letting him so close to them, that's a treasured gift. Kurt looks so adorable in his unusual attire and his eyes shines with honesty. Blaine wants so badly to close the short distance between them and kiss him. But he won't do that; he can't do anything resembling that until he knows he can be the boyfriend Kurt deserves. He really, really wants to. But he isn't brave enough yet, he can't give Kurt what he is entitled to. But Blaine is trying every single day to improve. Maybe one day.

He closes his eyes and inhales to calm himself down, before gently tugging Kurt's hand.

"Come with me?"

Kurt responds by taking a step closer, and they descend the stairs hand in hand. Blaine takes them to the hallway by the entrance with the three doors, and opens the one in the middle. A plain staircase takes them downstairs.

Kurt is unnaturally quiet, and Blaine wonders what kind of thoughts are running through his mind. He doesn't have to ponder on that for long, though, as he soon faces the familiar burgundy vacuum sealed door.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"No," Kurt answers honestly. "But I'll come with you anyway."

Blaine smiles fondly at him, before shoving the heavy handle to open the even heavier door. It opens slowly, and he steps aside to let Kurt walk in first.

"Blaine… You have a pool in your basement."

"That I have," he confirms unnecessarily.

"You're going to teach me to swim," Kurt concludes, sounding amazed.

"That I am."

Blaine can't help but smile eagerly as he rolls on his feet. He's observing Kurt watching the 25 metres long pool, though only wide enough for two lanes.

"Why do you have a pool in your basement? It kind of doesn't look like it belongs here…"

"Take off your pants and I'll explain," Blaine suggests, and oh, that sentence sounded better in his head.

Both boys blush, but Kurt follows his example when Blaine slips out of his sweatpants. He sits down by the pool, feet dangling in the water. Kurt joins him.

"My dad got this built while I was in the hospital. The doctors had already told him I'd need a lot of physical therapy to recover fully, and would need exercise and a training program they developed for me to gain my mobility and muscles back. Dad thought swimming would be good for me as well, as it wouldn't add any pressure or weight to my injuries…"

Blaine can feel his throat thickening from talking about this. He hasn't for a long time. The pool is too narrow to use for much play and fun, so none of the boys at Dalton have ever had any reason to see it.

"Your dad must be amazing," Kurt gushes.

"Yeah, money can take you quite far," Blaine replies, and he really didn't mean to sound bitter. But he still remembers how the entire Hummel-Hudson family had played cards together last weekend, talking and having fun, spending quality time together without making a big fuss about it.

"What… What kind of injuries did you go through?" Kurt asks, and Blaine appreciates the change of topic. Somehow broken bones and bruises can be easier to talk about than a distant father. He still needs a moment to gather the words he hasn't said for quite some time, though.

"I don't remember much. I guess that can be seen as a blessing. But from what the doctor told me, one of them – and I don't even remember how many they were. Two? Three Four?" He shrugs, he's really never bothered about the details. It's not as if the pain or the anxiety would lessen if he knew more about what happened.

"Anyway, one of them had _something_ they used to hit us. A bat, the doctor suggested," he shivers; thinking about how much hate someone must feel to ram a blunt weapon on someone. Kurt shuffles closer to Blaine. He appreciates it, he doesn't want to be alone when he relives this.

"I probably curled up on the ground to protect my head, but they hit my body repeatedly, and broke my femur. It's the upper leg bone," Blaine adds in case Kurt doesn't know his anatomy, until he remembers how Kurt told him about coach Sylvester teaching them everything worth knowing about the skeleton and muscles of the human body.

"They had to nail the broken bones together with giant pins. It hurt like hell, even when I was on morphine. I'm still not free from all pain," Blaine shrugs, because he really doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, but at the same time it feels good to share this with Kurt.

Kurt has wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist, and Blaine is pretty confident Kurt doesn't know, but his warm hand is resting precisely where his scars from the insertion of the pins are. It feels symbolic, and is a bittersweet realization. Blaine leans his head on Kurt's shoulder; he needs to be close to someone for this. It'll also be easier to talk about if he doesn't have to see Kurt's face. He's sick and tired of all the pity and sadness people have offered the few times he's shared his story. Why do they say they're sorry, when it isn't anything they did or can change?

"I had other injuries too, but this is the only permanent physical damage. The injury prevented that leg from growing as much as my other leg. It's not really noticeable, but I have a tiny leg length discrepancy."

Blaine lifts his legs out of the water and stretches them out in the air. Even if he knows which leg is shorter, he still can't see it with his naked eye. That doesn't mean he never notices, though.

"If I slack on my physical therapy, my leg tends to stiffen. And my back eventually kills me from compensating for the leg being off, if I don't stay active."

"So that's why you're jogging?" Kurt murmurs. He's gently rubbing his thumb over Blaine's thigh, and Blaine wonders if he's conscious about it. It gives him tingles and goose bumps, and he almost holds his breath to not alert Kurt about what he's doing.

"Yeah," Blaine exhales with a stutter. "If I've been sitting for too long by my desk, I need to move. Boxing has also helped a lot, and given me more strength in my upper body to support my back."

"Does fencing help as well?" Kurt asks carefully.

Blaine grins and absentmindedly nuzzles into Kurt's neck when he shakes his head.

"Not really. It's just awesome!"

Kurt's shoulders shake when he laughs.

"So swimming helped you move around, without actually using the leg?"

"Yup. At first I actually swam by using my arms only. I was too scared to move my legs, afraid it would hurt. But eventually I had to overcome that fear, and my physiotherapist helped me understand I wouldn't heal if I kept avoiding the pain."

"It makes me angry you have to go through this," Kurt murmurs, and tightens his hold around Blaine.

"I'm much better now, promise. It's even a bonus to it, as it alerts me of changes in the weather with much more accuracy than the weather forecast manages," Blaine chuckles. "I need to exercise regularly, but otherwise I'm fine. I've actually heard that can be healthy."

Kurt snorts at that, and hurriedly curls the fingers caressing Blaine. He misses them instantly.

"Umm…" Kurt hesitates.

"You can ask me anything," Blaine promises, lifting his head to look Kurt in his eyes. The boy is blushing and mumbling something.

"You'll think I'm stupid," Blaine can hear him say.

"You can ask absolutely anything," Blaine repeats.

"It's just that… I've never seen anything off with your walking and dancing. How do you do that?"

"It's only a slight difference, so the discrepancy only gives a subtle deviation in my movements. You'll need a really well trained eye to see it. It's noticeable if I stiffen up too much or if my back hurts. But as I said, I try to stay active to avoid that. My pelvis and lower back are crucial, so I still do exercises to strengthen those areas."

"You should try yoga," Kurt bursts out. "I think that could be really good for you."

"I'll try anything once," Blaine smiles, trying not to picture Kurt in various yoga positions.

Kurt lifts his feet out of the water, turns towards Blaine and curls up his legs. He takes both of Blaine's hands.

"Blaine, I'm so impressed by you," he says, never looking away from his eyes, hardly blinking. "You're strong and brave, you're a fighter. You've been through so much, and still you've managed to become this remarkable person. Don't you dare think anything else of yourself."

Blaine has to swallow heavily. Nobody's ever called him strong outside of a physical context, and somehow he doubts that's what Kurt's talking about. He wants to object the bravery, thought, but lets it rest.

"Thank you," he murmurs, looking up at Kurt through his eyelashes.

"Now, I believe you said something about saving me from flunking PE," Kurt winks, and Blaine is relieved they can move so easily from a heavy subject without it seeming forced.

"That I did," he agrees, wraps off his tank top, and slides into the pool. "I think it'll be easier if you're in the water too," he teases, splashing some water at the other boy.

He can see Kurt hesitate.

"Are you afraid of being in the water?" he asks honestly worried. Maybe there was a serious reason for Kurt not being able to swim?

"No. No, that's fine," Kurt mumbles. "It's just… Never mind."

The boy plants his hands against the tiled floor, and pushes himself into the water. It reaches them to just above the waist. Blaine's father had wanted to make a proper swimming lane, deep enough for diving in one end, but it turned out to be impractical. So the water level is constant along the entire length of the pool.

Blaine is briefly curious as to why Kurt keeps his t-shirt on, but realizes Kurt is probably so shy he doesn't want to be that undressed. Blaine may be a straight A-student, but sometimes he really questions his intellectual capacities. When he came up with the idea to teach Kurt how to swim in the basement of his own home, the though of a wet, half naked Kurt never struck him. Until now, that is. This may have been Blaine's best and worst idea ever.

After a quick Q&A, Blaine learns that Kurt has some basic theoretical understanding of how to potentially master the water, but Blaine decides they should just have some fun and getting used to the element. He challenges Kurt to play some of the beach games he enjoyed when he was a kid, they see who can hold their breath under the water the longest, they play with a ball he finds in the basement, and basically have a lot of fun, laughing and grinning for a long time.

Blaine tries to ignore how the white, wet t-shirt is melted around Kurt's torso. Sure, he's seen Kurt in well fitted, tight clothes before. But his application for participation in a wet t-shirt competition is highly approved of. It's the closest to an erotic experience with another boy Blaine's ever had. He's pretty sure he would have been less affected if Kurt had just dropped the t-shirt all together.

Eventually, they get tired of the games, and Blaine encourages Kurt to try floating on his back. It takes some tries before Kurt finds out how to position his body and hold his limbs, and Blaine has to restrain himself from offering to hold him or give him a helping hand. That just wouldn't work out well now.

When Kurt complains about being cold, they get out of the pool, and according to Blaine's phone they've been in the water for more than three hours. They sit down on the floor, and Kurt is shivering.

"You know, that t-shirt isn't designed for being used in the water, and holds on to the cold water much more than swimming wear does. And here I'm lecturing _you_ on clothes," Blaine chuckles. "Anyway, you might freeze less if you took it off," he shrugs, hoping he doesn't come off as a sleazy, ogling creep.

Kurt is shivering, his teeth clacking.

"This really proves how cold I am," he stutters, and tries to peel off the wet, leaching fabric. "Besides, I guess I won't be able to wear a body suit at Dalton, and have to get over myself," he mutters lowly.

Blaine wants to say something comforting, but he can't think out anything that won't either be coming on too strong, or can possibly be interpreted in the wrong way. And knowing Kurt, it _would_ be interpreted the wrong way. Kurt's reaction to Secret Santa really scared Blaine.

Kurt has finally won the battle against his piece of clothing, and the soaked fabric hits the floor with a wet smacking sound. He leans forward, resting his folded arms on his bent knees, as if he's curling up to hide the front of his torso.

Blaine can't help but look at his strong back, and a gasp escapes him.

"What?" Kurt looks at him with big eyes, and bites his lower lip.

"Do you remember when I helped you wash your hair the first night you spent at Dalton?"

Kurt squirms, and mumbles something unintelligible. It's obvious the memory embarrasses him.

"I commented on your bruises and damages to your back," Blaine continues, intent on letting Kurt know what he's thinking. "Kurt, your back looked like a sad rainbow flag."

Kurt still looks uncomfortable, but Blaine is relentless.

"Your back is so much better. You've gotten your normal skin colour back, the swellings are gone. I bet you don't feel sore anymore, and can sleep in any position you want without feeling any pain."

"There are still scars," Kurt mutters. "Ugly scars that'll never fade, no matter how much TLC I provide."

It saddens Blaine that Kurt feels so troubled about his scars, but a part of him can understand it. The need to put it all past him won't be fulfilled. Whenever Blaine catches sight of his own scars, he's always reminded of what happened.

"I have some pretty ugly scars too," Blaine confesses.

Kurt gives him a not so subtle once-over, and shrugs. Obviously he doesn't believe Blaine, as he can't see them.

"They're hidden under my clothes, but they're there," Blaine reassures him.

Kurt looks at him again, fixing his eyes on Blaine's swimming shorts, and blushes.

"I've been so troubled by them. I feel more confident now. But they'll always be there, and I'll never be able to hide them. Whenever I'll be intimate with someone, they'll always be a potential topic," he adds, and a calming voice in the back of his head reassures him that Kurt already knows, so he doesn't have to fear that. And whoa, when did he go from hoping to be man enough to date Kurt Hummel to planning on getting naked with him? He bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from saying anything more and calm down.

"Has anyone ever seen your scars?"

Blaine shakes his head.

"Because you're able to hide them. Mine will be visible the moment I step into the pool at Dalton," Kurt sighs.

"They really aren't that noticeable," Blaine reassures him, tracing a finger along a faded red scar.

A shiver runs violently through Kurt's body.

"You're getting colder," Blaine comments. "Come on, I have the perfect reward for your effort in today's swimming lesson."

Blaine puts on his tank top and Kurt wraps a towel around his body, before they climb up the stairs again.

"Wait here," he commands, and steps out through a veranda door hidden behind some curtains in the lounge. He can hear Kurt warn him against walking out in the cold scarcely clothed, but Blaine happily ignores him. He flips the light switch and removes the heavy wood lid. He adds a fistful of lavender scented powder, before he skips back to Kurt.

"Come on," he grins, tugging excitedly at Kurt's arm.

"You're truly mistaken if you think I'll go outside in nothing but shorts and a towel."

"Why don't you trust me?" Blaine pouts, trying to play dirty.

"I do," Kurt objects.

"No, otherwise you'd come with me, no questions asked."

Kurt glares at him for an agonizingly long moment, until his body seems to let go of his air, and he silently walks out through the door. He turns around to look at Blaine, raising his eyebrows questioningly, as if he's wondering why he isn't following after Kurt. Blaine laughs, and jogs up to Kurt.

"You're going to love this," Blaine promises.

"Tadaa!" he proudly presents, as they turn around the corner, walking on a veranda that goes along two sides of the house.

"You have a Jacuzzi," Kurt squeals. "You have an actual honest Jacuzzi!"

The bubbling water is mesmerizing, the soft spotlights make the water seem turquoise and the Christmas lights decorating the house makes an inviting scenery.

"I thought you were cold?" Blaine teases, bumping his shoulder against the still Kurt. Kurt all but stumbles on his own feet, eagerly entering the hot water. Blaine slips into the tub as well, immersing himself in the warmth all the way up to his chin.

"I'm going to sit here until I get webbed skin," Kurt proclaims, and Blaine chuckles.

They don't talk for a long time, just enjoying. It's getting darker, but the stars aren't out yet. Sitting in the Jacuzzi under the shining stars is one of Blaine's favourite places in this house. It makes him feel tiny in the universe, but it also makes him believe the universe is big enough to find a place where homophobes don't exist.

* * *

Together, they make a chicken salad for late lunch slash early dinner, and settle down in the winter garden to continue watching _How I Met Your Mother_.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why haven't we seen anyone in the house today?" Kurt asks between episodes.

"My dad is away for business," Blaine shrugs. "He often is. And Ella is with her family. She usually comes by a couple of hours each day to take in the mail and papers, throw away bad food, buy groceries, do laundry, clean the house, air unused rooms, tend to the garden and so on. When I lived at home, she'd always be here to make me dinner. And she helps my dad if he's hosting dinner parties. But I told her to stay with her own family this weekend; I can do what's needed. She made sure to provide us with groceries, though, as dad has been away all week."

Kurt is silent, head tilted towards the big screen. He isn't watching it, though. His gaze continues through the glass doors and further into the house. He tries to take in everything he's seen from the Anderson home so far. He's pensive. And embarrassingly curious.

"So what does your father work with?" he asks, going for nonchalant.

"What doesn't he work with?" Blaine groans. "Basically he's a professional board member, I'd say. He sits in all kinds of boards, giving companies whatever kind of expertise they need. He's a consultant, a councillor, a meddler, a deal maker, a deal breaker, a money maker, a money spender…"

"I get the gist," Kurt laughs.

"His work takes him all over the country, some times even to Europe or Asia. He's never been home often, that's really why we have Ella. After mom left…"

Kurt awkwardly pats Blaine's knee.

"Hey," he murmurs softly. "I'll never judge you. You know that?"

"I know" Blaine says, giving him a small smile. "I'm just used to people being weirded out when they meet someone from money. And," Blaine shrugs, gesturing around him, "I am. But it doesn't define or cement me."

"I was under the impression that most of the guys at Dalton came from money – and a few came for the anti bullying policy."

"That's true. But I did go to public school until I transferred," Blaine reminds him.

"May I ask why?" Kurt asks carefully, hesitantly. "Not that it's my business, but if your dad is as rich as this house implies, I'd thought you'd been to schools like Dalton all your life."

"You can always ask me anything, Kurt," Blaine says gently. "If I for some reason can't or won't answer, I'll let you know. As for your question, mom and dad agreed they wanted their children to appreciate the real values in life. Cooper never went to Dalton, for instance."

Blaine tells Kurt about how his dad comes from a hard working family, and how his great-grandfather started with nothing, got employment in a steel factory, worked his way up, and built a small fortune through hard work, some risky chances and some luck. It gave his children possibilities, and Andersons have always been smart people, doing right, strategic choices. But they have never forgotten their blue-collar background. There also seems to be somewhat of a stingy gene in the Andersons blood, enabling them to spend money wisely and scarcely.

"If you compare this house to David's, for instance, you'll know theirs are more luxurious and grand. They don't make more money than dad, but use it differently. But I'm not stating the Thompsons are squandering their money either. The families just have different priorities."

"So Cooper and you went to public school because your parents didn't want to spend the money on private schools?" Kurt suggests as conclusion.

"Not at all. They wanted to see us in public school, to make sure we stay humble, level headed and with a good grasp of how reality works. Of course they chose good schools for us, and they don't expect us to go to any random college or university after high school. But they always said that if we want to make it in the world, we need to know and understand the world. And the world consists of more than business meetings."

"I can see how they're reasoning," Kurt nods.

"I don't have an unlimited platinum card in my name, and my dad isn't throwing money after me. So please don't think of me as some spoiled snob or whatever," Blaine says, pleading with Kurt through his eyes.

"I said I wouldn't judge you", Kurt insists. "And nothing you've told me so far can change how I see you. I like getting to know your background better, though."

"Thank you," Blaine murmurs, sounding relieved.

"Are you close to your father?" Kurt asks curiously. He doesn't know a lot of teenagers living with merely their father. Most live with their mother, both parents, or a mother and her new partner. He wonders if his own relationship with his father is as special as he thinks it is.

"I love him, and he loves his sons," Blaine shrugs. "It's not easy to be close with someone living as nomadic as he does."

"You once said he blamed your mom for your sexuality…" he hesitantly adds.

"He did. He thought she had made me weak and girly, and he became tougher with me after that. I worked so hard to impress him, to show him that I still was a good son. I got good grades, I did well in sports. Me being gay really wasn't much of an issue in the open – I didn't come out in school, I confided in Cooper and eventually my closest friends, but we never spoke about it within the family for a long time. Less than six months after I came out, mom filed for a divorce and moved. Then it was just me and my dad. He started working more, Ella came into the picture, and I continued to work hard to prove myself to him."

Blaine takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and Kurt presses his leg close to Blaine, touching from knee to foot, to show he's there for him.

"Middle school was OK, but when I began high school I allowed myself to search myself. You know what I mean? Everybody is the same until then, but in high school I needed an identity, I needed to find the true me. In that process, I came out."

Kurt chokes on a gasp. He can't imagine that went well.

"Dad had found a really good high school for me. Well educated teachers, good statistics on the students' exam results, modern buildings and nice facilities. It's Columbus, I thought it would be OK."

Kurt knows it wasn't.

"It's funny how it only took a severe beating my sophomore year to completely change the relationship between my father and me," Blaine mutters laconically.

Kurt doesn't stop himself, and engulfs the boy in a warm embrace.

"He built you the pool to help you recover," Kurt reminds him as he lets go of his hold on the boy.

"He did. He's always been better at showing affection through practical actions and gestures, rather than expressing emotions verbally. He once said he'd rather have a gay son than a dead son. I don't think he meant it that crass, but I'm not sure."

Kurt doesn't know what to say. He's never met Blaine's dad, and it's impossible to interpret the sentence completely.

"He must be glad you're alive, though," he tries.

"I know he is. I'm just scared of finding out how he really feels about me, because right now we have a fairly decent tone between us. We can talk normally about school, Buckeyes and boxing, we can talk about his work and Cooper, we can have pleasant conversations if we need to. But we never speak about dating, not the attack other than he makes sure I don't have any more pain, my sexuality isn't mentioned. It's as if he's suppressed it," Blaine shivers, sounding hurt and confused. "We never speak about anything personal, never about Warblers or music. It's all amicable and superficial," Blaine sighs.

"It could be worse," Kurt muses. "I've read all these stories about gay teenagers being kicked out of their homes, parents still trying to set them up on dates with someone of the opposite sex, being sent to conversion camp, and other stories about cruel parents showing nothing but homophobia and hate towards their own children."

"I know it could be worse; it has been worse. I just wish I knew how he really feels about me. Can I ever bring a boyfriend home, or is that something we won't ever talk about?"

"Well, at least he hasn't asked you to build any more cars with him," Kurt teases, making Blaine laugh. Kurt wanted to ask Blaine about his mom as well, but they've had enough heavy conversation for now.

They sit still for a moment. Kurt suspects Blaine is digesting their conversation.

"Come," Blaine says and gets up from the chaiselong.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asks, but gets up anyway.

"I know you're dying to see my room," he answers wickedly, and they run upstairs.

* * *

**Songs mentioned:**

Right Said Fred – _I'm Too Sexy_

George Michael – _I Want Your Sex_

Def Leppard – _Pour Some Sugar On Me_

Marvin Gaye – _Sexual Healing_


	34. Being Tony Manero

**AN: Not gonna lie to you, I was slightly inspired by the episode _Silly Love Songs_ (blink and you miss it) and mightily inspired by the episode _Saturday Nigh Glee-ver_ when I wrote this...**

**Thank you for all the encouraging reviews I got for my last chapter, you blow my mind! Thank you, guys!**

**Warning: You should contact someone else than me for swimming lessons. Do not try this on your own at home.**

**Oh, and because I'm my own PR manager: I recently uploaded a one shot called _Dolphins_. It tries to deal with some of my questions on what happened to David Karofsky after he was released from the hospital.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but I enjoy my tiny sandbox.**

* * *

It's nothing like he expected. At all. Then again, Kurt hadn't really imagined Blaine to be the son of some filthy rich businessman, with a breathtaking villa in Columbus, decorated and filled with all kinds of appliances, furniture and accessories that suggest "we've got more money than we can spend, but we're not flaunting it".

Of course Kurt recognized Blaine's car as a good, expensive car. But his Navigator wasn't exactly a wreck either, and had been bought for safety and security, money be darned, his dad had said. And he identifies a certain air of class, mannerism and style surrounding Blaine which Kurt never saw at McKinley. But he's also been frank enough to think he himself is better than most guys at McKinley. A sound upbringing doesn't necessarily require fortunes, and being polite and articulated is free of charge.

So he'd basically thought about Blaine as fresh air, appreciated the relief of finally finding someone else who also takes pride in how they dress, hold themselves, converse, behave and meet the world. He knew Blaine had been a transfer to Dalton as well; for all Kurt knew, even his parents had made sacrifices to pay for his refugee, just like Burt and Carole did.

Coming to Dalton and getting to know more of the guys, Kurt had realized that Ohio managed to breed several promising young men for the future. Still, there was something about Blaine that made him stand out. Kurt never thought it could be his socio economic background. It was just… Blaine.

And for a short moment, Kurt wondered last night if he'd have to re-evaluate his impression of and opinion on Blaine. But it took Kurt less than a minute to realize that it didn't change Blaine. It added to Kurt's knowledge about Blaine. But it didn't alter the boy. The money he came from wasn't something that newly happened, so the Blaine Kurt knew before they went to Columbus is still the same Blaine he'll go back to Dalton with.

Even though his room in his father's house is freaking amazing!

"Blaine… I think you'll have to give me a tour," Kurt grins and takes in the magnitude of what Blaine calls his _room_.

Blaine looks suddenly uncomfortable; far from the playful and confident boy he'd been downstairs when he'd offered to show Kurt his room.

"OK, but you need to know something first."

Kurt leans against the door frame, and puts on his most patient expression.

"I'm all ears."

"This too was something dad arranged while I was in the hospital," he says hesitantly, and Kurt wonders exactly how much it hurts Blaine to think about what happened back then. "We already knew it would take time before I could go back to school, so he wanted me to have a nice place to spend my time."

Kurt suppresses a snort, because this looks much more like a apartment than a boy's room.

"He… He wanted to do the changes downstairs so I wouldn't have to climb the staircases with my injuries on a daily basis. But it ended up being more practical to do the changes up here. Someone would… help me, when I needed to go downstairs for physical therapy or swimming," Blaine blushes, and Kurt tilts his head in confusion. How badly in shape had he been when he was discharged?

"Initially I couldn't put any weight on the damaged leg," Blaine adds. "So... theyhadtocarryme," he rushes out.

Kurt takes pride in how he manages to not move a single muscle in his face. He wouldn't dream about laughing at Blaine's admission, but he doesn't want to pity him either. Blaine's beyond that time of his life, and Kurt knows how proud and stubborn he can be. Blaine is quite secretive, considering how open and friendly he always seems.

"So you ended up with a bachelor pad," Kurt shrugs, roaming his eyes over the vast space with interest.

Blaine exhales deeply, loudly, and Kurt thinks his shoulders seem lower.

"This used to be Coop's room," he says and passes the door frame. "He hadn't been living here for years, and dad decided he only needed two guest rooms anyway. So he knocked down a wall, sealed a couple of doors, made some new ones…"

Kurt follows after Blaine. They are in a pretty spacious room. The floor is made of bright white polished tiles, and a black fluffy throw covers most of the open area. It's tall under the ceiling, and the old architecture and style shows.

"The floor is actually quite good for dancing," Blaine grins, and takes a spin on the tiles.

Kurt can't help but laugh.

"Dad came to the hospital, telling me he was redecorating my room. I never knew how much he was remodelling before I came home," Blaine says softly. "He brought plenty of colour swatches and furniture catalogues, asking me to choose. I'd forgotten about that," Blaine grins. "I was on all kinds of pain medication, so I apologize on behalf of the younger drugged me."

"He wasn't that bad," Kurt winks.

Two of the walls are painted black, the other two bright purple. A big light blue L-shaped couch is pierced in the black corner. A big mirror with an elaborated golden frame hangs over one part of the couch. Several pictures which Kurt will have a closer look at later on decorate the other wall over the couch.

The coffee table is dark grey and circular, with two levels, offering storage space on the bottom base. Wooden structure and patterns are visible on the top level, and a bright yellow circle with something that pretends to be writing has been added to the centre of the table.

"It made you think of gramophone records, didn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it did," Blaine blushes.

"Cute," Kurt comments offhandedly, and continues to explore the room.

A huge media section faced against the couch shows off almost any kind of gadgets a teenage boy might need. A big flat screen mounted on the wall, DVD- and blue ray-player, an impressive stereo system, some game consoles, and of course a wide selection of movies, music and games. But there's also what seems like an authentic gramophone player, a stack of records, and a guitar.

"I… I could be pretty bored hauled up here on my own," Blaine says apologetically.

Kurt simply smiles at him. He understands. He isn't judging.

The wall has a wider than usual doorframe, and Kurt notices it leads to a bedroom. Dark green walls, sand curtains, and calm colours. Blaine has a really comfortable looking bed, big and soft. A shelf overhead the bed is filled with several stuffed animals and some other toys. Kurt thinks it's adorable, that Blaine's taken care of some of his childhood memories.

One wall is covered with book shelves, a desk and a small dresser. The book shelves are brimming, but that's no surprise, Kurt already knew Blaine loves to read. The desk is clean, except for a PC and a printer. The walls are covered in pictures, diplomas, and a shelf with various trophies.

A glass door leads out to a tiny balcony.

What triggers Kurt's curiosity the most is what seems to be a big walk-in closet. But he reigns himself in, he'd rather see the clothes _on_ Blaine, and it seems a bit too personal to rummage through his outfits, and without doubt criticise and compose new combinations.

They step outside, and Blaine points to a door across the living room, explaining it's the bathroom. Copper and he used to share it, but his father moved the door from the hallway to make it Blaine's private bath.

Kurt notices there are no thresholds in the room, and asks Blaine.

"It made it easier to walk with crutches. I would drag the injured leg somewhat, as I didn't have the muscles to lift it for a proper step yet," he shrugs as if it was nothing.

Kurt is blown away by how brave Blaine tries to be by it all, and he hurts thinking about everything the other boy had to go through. He can't stop himself, and tugs Blaine in for a warm, tight hug.

They don't say anything, just hold each other, breathing the other in, knowing they share a painful not-so-distant-past, and can understand the other in ways few others ever can.

"No wonder you jump so much these days. Your legs had to store up all their bounciness for a very long time," Kurt murmurs. Blaine is silent for a beat, but then laughs heartedly, and their hug dissolves.

Along the fourth wall is a modest kitchen department. A sink, a small refrigerator and a microwave oven, and a cupboard with what Kurt decides to assume must store cutlery and china. It wouldn't surprise him, at least.

"Ella would stock the fridge with quick meals I could heat in the micro, and fruit and snacks, so I didn't have to work my way downstairs several times a day. Now it comes in quite handy for popcorn making and cooling down beverages during movie nights," Blaine grins, but there's still a spark of hesitation in his eyes.

"So this is where Anderson throws all his wild parties," Kurt winks, trying to ease Blaine up.

"I believe you called it a bachelor pad," Blaine laughs, and sits down in the couch.

"I did. And you should know that it's giving me some quite vivid imagery," Kurt replies airily, following after to the couch.

"Does it now?" Blaine laughs.

"You do have a rather impressing penthouse and a brand new swimming pool in the basement. You were a single boy with too much spare time. That literally screams Cabana Boy," Kurt concludes seriously.

"Does it now?" Blaine says again, laughing even harder.

"Mhm," Kurt hums, getting comfortable on the couch. "My guess he's a short, beefy Puerto Rican with spiked black hair, wearing nothing but a lime green speedo and responding to the name Ramón. Please tell me you have a tanning bed in the basement so he can maintain his lovely orange tainted hue?"

"Anything for Ramón," Blaine says sweetly. "I'd like for you to meet, but unfortunately he's attending a chlorine conference for Ohioan Cabana boys in Cincinnati."

"Of course he is," Kurt snorts. "I bet you've given him the weekend off so you wouldn't have to introduce us. Because you're so ashamed of letting him meet a friend who can't swim."

"I'm so glad you know me as well as you do," Blaine grins and nudges Kurt by the shoulder.

It takes Kurt by surprise, and he falls over on his back. He glances at the ceiling, and gasps.

"You have to remember I was really young, really drugged, and really hooked on _Saturday Night Fever_," Blaine rushes out, looking in the same direction as Kurt. "Dad put his foot down on plexiglas floor, though…"

"Show me," Kurt grins.

No reaction.

"Show. Me," he commands, playfully, but firmly, sitting up and leaning in front of Blaine to look him directly in the eyes.

The other boy sighs, but picks up a remote control.

The disco ball hanging from the ceiling spins slowly. Two rows of brightly coloured party lights catch the reflections in both the disco ball and the big mirror. Blaine pushes another button, and the lights start swaying.

The boys get up from the couch to inspect the effect more closely. Blaine kicks away the thick rug, and does another spin on the smooth floor.

"I wanted the floor Tony Manero danced on," he pouts.

"I bet dancing was good for your physical recovery as well," Kurt says sweetly.

"Umm, yeah," Blaine answers sounding confused.

"You should show me."

"What?" Blaine splutters, backing a step away from Kurt.

"You've showed me how you swim. So you have to show me how you dance."

"That… That's gotta be some kind of Hummel logic," Blaine objects.

"Yesss," Kurt grins, prolonging the S. "And we Hummel's are always right."

"But… Here? In front of you?"

"I can hardly be scarier than the audience at Regionals, Blaine."

Blaine still hesitates.

"This is insane, I didn't know what I was doing back then, I shouldn't do this," he shakes his head, walking towards the couch again.

"OK, man up, you're amazing, I'm gonna love it," Kurt promises, stopping him by the shoulder.

"OK. On one condition."

Kurt tilts his head to the side and raises his eyebrows to show he's listening.

"You're doing a duet with me at the Valentine's party."

"You want to sing a sexy song with me at a party with a sexy theme?" Kurt guffaws.

"Yes," Blaine says seriously.

Well, Kurt thinks for himself, having the baby penguin as the sidekick will only make Blaine look even sexier, so he can't blame him.

"Which song?"

"That's a surprise," Blaine grins smugly.

"Will it be embarrassing?"

"Maybe," Blaine shrugs. "You're asking me to dance disco in front of you," he says, as if it justifies anything. "I'll be rapping, always wanted a shot at that," he adds with a wink to sell his case.

"We are _not_ doing _I like big butts_," Kurt warns him.

"Please," Blaine scoffs. "I do have some style."

"It's an out of uniform kind of party?"

Blaine nods in confirmation.

Being in uniform would have been fine, because then he could hide in the masses and just be one of the Warblers. But being out of uniform means he can wear whatever he wants, and maybe he'll manage to put together an outfit that'll give him the confidence he needs. And he really, really wants to do a duet with Blaine.

"I believe you owe me a disco number," he says haughtily.

Blaine fist pumps, and rummages through his CDs.

"So, don't laugh at me, OK?" he asks again as the first notes play.

"Boy scouts honour," Kurt answers, fighting against the smile that wants to hijack his face.

"You never were a boy scout," Blaine huffs, but gets in position. He takes the legendary Tony Manero stance, one arm raised in the air, the other downwards, knees slightly bent, hip somewhat cocked, and an eager but bashful smile across his lips.

Bee Gee's familiar words to _Night Fever_ fill the room. Blaine does the combing through his hair, the adjustment of his cufflinks, the whole shebang. His smile turns completely happy; he loosens up and lets the music conquer him. Kurt can't help but smile widely, and he's laughing _with_ Blaine, not at him. Some of the light and colours are reflected in the white floor tiles, and Kurt can imagine a younger Blaine dancing with a limp, enjoying the colours above and below him.

"Join me," Blaine struts towards Kurt and waves him to him.

"I don't know these moves," Kurt objects laughingly.

"Neither do I," Blaine sing-songs, and spins on the sock clad ball of his foot.

Kurt gives in, pretty easily. He does want to dance with Blaine, after all. So he gets up from the couch, mirrors Blaine's enthusiastic smile, and follows him somewhat nervously to the middle of the floor, right under the spinning silver ball. He tries to mirror Blaine's steps, but end up clutching his stomach and laughing at least half the time.

"I thought you were better at improvising," Blaine teases, sidestepping, shimmying his shoulders, twirling his hands and bopping his head.

"I'll admit New Directions were versatile, but we never joined the disco train."

"Come on!" Blaine shouts, marches a couple of steps, spins his arms, clap, turns around, and bumps his hip against Kurt.

Kurt rolls his eyes, as lovingly as he can, but finally lets himself go, surrendering to the music.

It is actually quite fun.

Blaine does some fast, intricate moves, and Kurt instantly drops to his knees, folding down and worshipping him. The other boy pretends to kick Kurt in the chest, and he flips backwards, flat on his back.

"You… are _really_ bendy," Blaine stutters, forgetting to dance.

"Cheerleading and yoga, Blaine," Kurt smirks, easily getting up on his feet again.

"Some day I'm gonna need your x-rays to see if your joints are otherworldly."

Kurt snorts, and does a cartwheel, just for the heck of it.

* * *

"Do you trust me?" he asks playfully, floating on his back.

"You keep asking me that, you know…"

Kurt keeps chewing on his bottom lip, and he doesn't like to see the smile on Blaine's face fall supersonically fast.

Blaine swims over to Kurt sitting on the pool side, lowering the goggles to loop around his neck.

"I'm pressuring you, aren't I? I'm pushing you too far?" Blaine looks guiltily at Kurt, his head resting on his arms curled up next to where Kurt's sitting. "God, I've been so afraid to screw this up, and then that's exactly what I end up doing anyway." He hides his face in his arms.

"Hey…" Kurt coos softly. His hand hovers over Blaine, not certain how to deal with all that glorious wet, naked skin. "I'm still here, aren't I?" he whispers, settling with running his fingers through Blaine's hair. The curls twirl themselves lazily around his fingers, as if they're thanking him for momentarily releasing them from their prison moulded wet against Blaine's skull.

"I… don't trust… easily," Kurt says hesitantly, not ceasing his fingers' movement through Blaine's hair. "And you're sometimes asking pretty big things of me…"

Blaine turns his head to look at him, and Kurt removes his hand as if he's burned on raging fire.

"But I'm trying," Kurt admits, looking across the water. "I want to trust you. And I usually do," he adds, finally meeting Blaine's eyes.

"I don't want to disappoint you," Blaine sighs. "I want to be the best friend possible for you. And… If I can't even manage that, how can I be…?"

Blaine doesn't complete the sentence, but he doesn't have to. Kurt is pretty sure he can do it himself. Blaine is afraid to disappoint, he's desperate to be trusted, he's afraid to be a failure, and he's holding back as long as he doesn't feel confident he can play the part he assigns for himself. In some ways, they are alike. Both need to be in control, both have experienced too often to be robbed of that. Both feel vulnerable when they're in deep water, and maybe they've been disappointed by others one time too many.

Kurt's learned to find reassurance in his own achievements. He _knows_ what he's good at, and lets those things boost his ego. He knows he has a unique voice, he knows his fashion sense is spectacular, he knows he's got the gift of gab and he knows he's ambitious and driven enough to move mountains.

He also knows that some days just suck, but lately they've been few and far between. Because he's been more honest with his dad. Because his dad is happy. Because their family has settled down. Because he has good friends who finally see him. And because of the boy slumped in front of him. Who maybe isn't so good at leaning on his own confidence, and needs plenty of reassurances from the people around him to not drown. And who has Blaine really got around him except for the guys at Dalton? Where is his family, and for how long have they been absent?

"Hey Champ?" Kurt smirks, kicking in the water to splash on Blaine and get his attention.

The other boy looks up at him, questioningly.

"Do some laps; show me how it's done," Kurt grins, nodding along the length of the pool.

Blaine stares in awe at him for a moment, before smiling bashfully as he shakes his head.

"Thank you," he says softly, readjusts the swimming goggles, and glides away.

Kurt watches him pick up speed and work effortlessly through the water. As it did for Moses, the water moves without hesitation, letting Blaine through. He conquers the water, bursting through it, manipulating it to carry him and push him forward.

Kurt watches how Blaine's muscles rip and expand each time he emerges on the surface to inhale a quick breath. His arms have never looked as strong. _Blaine's_ never looked stronger.

He carefully slips into the water, a violent shiver running through his body from the sudden cold. No wonder swimmers are so fast; they need to stay in motion to keep warm.

Blaine takes one final stroke, and glides the last metres up next to Kurt. He removes his goggles and wipes his face with his hands to dry it somewhat off.

"That felt good!" he beams, shaking the water out of his hair.

"You're such a puppy," Kurt laughs.

"Oh yeah? Am I a pure bred pedigree show stopper?" he grins, licking at one of his canine teeth.

Kurt tilts his head.

"No, you're more of a mutt; a mix of everything, impossible to pin point, fairly unique."

And oh my God, now he's blushing; it feels as if he's face is on fire. He lifts his feet, and lets himself sink under the water to cool down, to drown his embarrassment, to hide.

Too bad the water is transparent.

Two hands grab him under the shoulders and drag him up again.

"I know CPR," Blaine laughs, "but it would be nice if we have as a goal not to need it during this weekend." He smoothes a thumb over Kurt's closed eyelids to clear them of water, so Kurt can open his eyes again.

"And I'll take that as an odd, but sweet compliment," he adds softly when Kurt meets his eyes.

"Okay then," Kurt whispers breathlessly.

"Ready for your lesson?"

Kurt nods dumbly. He feels vulnerable trying to do something he doesn't know how, he feels literally naked in front of Blaine wearing only Blaine's swim shorts, and he's far from comfortable. But he'll do his best to trust Blaine.

"Teach me, oh master Yoda."

Because one cannot hang out with Sam without picking up some things.

Blaine ducks his head to hide his amused laughter, and stands next to Kurt.

"I'm not getting you ready for the Olympics, so we'll focus on keeping you floating and moving satisfactorily to pass PE, OK?"

Kurt nods; he's in no position to object.

"I think breaststrokes will be best. It takes some effort to coordinate arms and legs, but you should be able to pull it off. It's easier to swim as a beginner, because you won't storm up the pool too much. So with less water splashing, I think you'll feel more in control."

Kurt smiles gratefully at him. Sometimes Blaine is the best friend ever, doing his mind reading Jedi tricks.

"Let's begin with arms. This is the motion we're aiming for," he says and demonstrates. "I'll do it again slower, guide you step by step. So, arms in the air, hands close, palms facing away from you."

Kurt glances up at Blaine's hands to make sure he's doing it right.

"Good. Now rotate the palms outwards while pressing the arms downwards until they're outstretched. Remember that this stroke is forcefully pushing the water away for you."

Kurt does as Blaine, feeling a bit silly, but tries to think about it as yoga. That never makes much sense either. They're standing too close, and bump into each other when they both have their arms outstretched. Blaine takes a couple of steps forward.

"Look what I do now. Fold your arms to your chest, elbows out, let your palms meet, shoot your arms forward, and repeat shoving the water away. Got it?" Blaine asks, looking at Kurt from the corner of his eye.

"Not at all," Kurt shakes his head in amusement. How can something that seems so effortless be so complicated?

"Try again," Blaine prods, wading to stand closer and see what he does.

Kurt repeats what he thinks they did. And is pretty sure he's far from nailing it.

"It's just like dancing," Blaine encourages. "You have to practice to get it right, until it's merely muscle memory."

He's silent for a long while, as if he's contemplating something that conflicts him.

"What?"

"I want to help you, but I don't want to do something wrong."

"As long as you don't throw crocodiles in the pool to increase my speed," Kurt says airily.

"I was thinking if I helped you do the stroke…" Blaine blushes, and chews on his lower lip.

Kurt tilts his head in confusion. Help him do the stroke? _Oh…_

"Oh, OK, yeah, maybe that would work," he says, pitch somewhat higher than usual.

He steps away from the pool side, so Blaine can stand behind him. With Blaine in position, he dutifully lifts his arms in the air.

"Like this," Blaine murmurs, breath hot against Kurt's neck. He lifts his arms as well, but sighs when he realizes his arms can't reach completely.

"Drat…"

Kurt snorts and pointedly bends at his knees, decreasing his height with a foot or two.

"Brat!"

"You're such a poet."

Blaine huffs, cups Kurt's thumbs with his own hands, and pulls him up to his full height again.

"And you think you're so clever."

Kurt peaks into the water, and smiles smugly.

"You're standing on your toes. Clever enough for you?"

"I'm only going to teach you to swim backwards."

"Mr. Andrews never gave any specifics, so…" Kurt shrugs.

Blaine needs a moment to laugh silently, before he can guide Kurt trough the movements a couple of times. Kurt finds it difficult to breathe with Blaine standing so close. There's space between Blaine's chest and his back, but that may be mostly theoretical. Blaine's arms are firm along Kurt's, and Kurt's mesmerized to see their limbs like that. They're so different, but look so good together. It's like yin and yang, like a perfect pitched harmony, like complementary fashion put together to a perfect outfit.

Kurt has to mentally bitch slap himself to focus on what Blaine is actually doing and telling him.

"Now you try on your own again."

Kurt does, and Blaine praises him, suggesting a few minor adjustments.

"Are you ready to try this horizontally?"

"No. Yes. No," Kurt all but snorts.

"Come on, you gotta at least try.

"Shouldn't I have arm bands, back floaters, or something?"

"You'll be fine!" Blaine promises. "You have to be; I don't have any of that stuff," he winks and Kurt groans. "Honestly, you'll be fine; I've got you."

Kurt does the stroke again, and Blaine chuckles.

"You have to do it in the water, Kurt."

"I don't know how to begin…"

"And enter Blaine Anderson," Blaine beams.

Blaine demonstrates next to him how Kurt should crouch down until the water is above his shoulders.

"Then just lean forward and let go."

"Easier said than done…" Kurt mutters.

"I don't expect you to cover any distance; I just want you to get a feel of moving in the water."

Kurt looks doubtfully at him, but moves his arms hesitantly in the water.

"Nuhu, that's cheating, you have to do it with the same energy you used in the air."

Kurt tries again, tries to remember how Blaine shaped and steered his arms, tries to adapt from doing it in the air to do it in front of him in the water.

"You know you're supposed to actually lie down to float on the water?"

Kurt glares at Blaine, but bends slightly forward. He tries the arm stroke again, and can feel how the water is pushed aside and lures him on. He leans forward, allowing his arms to do another stroke. He leans more, another stroke, and now he has to lift a leg and take a step to prevent falling in the water.

"You're doing great!" Blaine praises him. "If Mr. Andrews accepts jogging instead of swimming in the water, you're totally passing PE. I can't wait to see you do under water-jogging at the deep end of the pool, though."

"Brat," Kurt scoffs, and stops moving.

"Apparently that makes two of us."

Kurt exhales loudly, deeply, and leans his back against the side of the pool, resting on his elbows. He closes his eyes and lolls his head as far back as it can go.

"I'm not a quitter. I'm just taking a break to enjoy my pity party."

"I have an idea. Turn around."

Kurt looks at him, sighs, but does as he says. Why not? He can't give up yet, he has to try more, until he either drowns or morphs into a shrimp.

"Hold here," Blaine says, pointing at a rail going along the entire length of the pool. "Now lift your legs and try to float. I'm right here, and I'll catch you if you need me."

Kurt grabs the rail, and lifts one leg backwards. He can feel the water almost capturing it, forcing it upwards. Quickly he puts it down on the tiled ground again, and lifts the other leg.

"Good, now try stretching both legs simultaneously," Blaine encourages patiently. "Think about it as a jump when you dance; you do that all the time. Or the cartwheel you did last night."

Kurt counts slowly to five, and then kind of kicks and jumps at the same time. He can feel his body float to the surface, and for a moment he panics; feeling he's lost any sense of control.

"You're doing great," Blaine gushes, standing close, and Kurt instantly relaxes. There's a slight tremble in his arms, but nothing he can't ignore.

"Now, I'm going to ask you to let go of the rail, I'm going to turn you away from it, you're going to try one of those arm strokes, and I'm going to be right by you all the time. OK?"

Blaine doesn't ask if Kurt trusts him, and Kurt realizes he actually does. And he wants Blaine to know. So he smiles, nods, and answers.

"I'm ready," he says, and loosens the tight grip he has on the rail, lifting his fingers somewhat. He looks at Blaine to double check he's still there, and lets go of the rail with one hand. It's a bit awkward, and he doesn't quite know how to find the balance.

"Keep your arms outstretched. My arms are right under your body; I've got you if you should start to sink, which I find unlikely."

Kurt is no betting man, so he doesn't comment on the odds, although he has his ideas. He may be no gambler, but he can be a risk taker when he wants to, so he lets go of the other hand, and then he's floating, with nothing to keep him grounded.

"You're doing great," Blaine murmurs by his ear, and Kurt feels like an eager puppy that wants to wag its tail and ask its master what more to do to earn a treat. And Kurt honestly thought Blaine was the puppy of the two of them.

"Because it's easier for now, I'm going to turn you around, OK?"

Kurt quickly nods; glad he doesn't have to learn left and right turns in the swimming pool yet.

"Keep your breathing steady, it helps you stay afloat."

Blaine then ducks under the water, but Kurt doesn't have time to wonder what he's doing before Blaine pops up between Kurt's outstretched arms.

"You're allowed to smile, Kurt. Isn't this fun?" Blaine wiggles his eyebrows, and shows that he knows very well that this is far from fun for Kurt at the moment. "Come on," he says, and grabs him by the shoulders.

Kurt lets Blaine manhandle him. He's dragged away from the pool side further out in the water, and Blaine turns him face towards the furthest end of the pool.

"I feel like a ragdoll. A drowned ragdoll. And not the kitten version."

"You better start swimming, then," Blaine laughs, treading the water in front of him.

Kurt takes a deep breath, lifts his head even further back to avoid getting water in his mouth or nose, and moves his arms. He tries again, but nothing seems to happen. A third stroke, before he gives up, catches the rail and lowers his legs again.

"It doesn't work," he sighs.

"What are you talking about? Didn't you see how you moved forward? You were swimming, my friend, even without knowing the frog kicks yet."

Kurt looks around, but it's difficult to decide if he's shortened the distance to the far end.

"I bet you covered a couple of feet," Blaine assures him. "Or maybe inches," he relents when Kurt looks doubtfully at him. "Just imagine how easy this will be when you can use your legs too. And we have to do something with your head, because you'll get a kink in your neck if you continue to rest it on your back. Not to mention how it decreases your breathing."

Kurt can't help but stare at his arms in awe, and then at Blaine. Then he laughs short and hard, in disbelief.

"Again," Blaine orders. "Do you want to start from the rail again, or do you want to give it a try from where you are now?"

"You're not going to leave me?"

Blaine just smiles reassuringly, and stands next to Kurt. He places his hands on Kurt's chest and stomach, and Kurt inhales sharply.

"Lean forward."

Kurt does so without thinking, and as soon as he floats in the water Blaine removes his hands. It's a relief. And it's a disappointment.

* * *

Hunger and cold finally force the boys out of the pool.

"Nobody can learn how to swim in merely a weekend," Blaine comforts him, as they climb up the stairs draped in big towels. "We can come back here as often as you need, and when you feel more confident we can try to borrow the big pool at Dalton."

"Thank you, Blaine. I really appreciate you doing this for me."

"Don't mention it, Silly. Now, are you up for lunch?"

They agree to meet up in the kitchen as soon as possible, to see what they can throw together.

Both boys finish their showers and getting dressed as quickly as possible to not let the other wait and Blaine has just opened the fridge when Kurt skips in. He's dressed casually, but still stylishly and impeccable. It makes Blaine feel like a slob in his dark washed blue jeans and black collared t-shirt sans bowtie. He's not even wearing socks, for goodness sake. Because… Well, he likes walking around without socks, even though Dalton uniform regulations don't allow it. He's not wearing mittens all the time either. Of course his feet should be free.

"I like your hair this way too," Kurt smiles blushingly, and Blaine touches his unstyled hair self-consciously. He'd really wanted to be a good host for Kurt and not let him wait, so he hadn't taken his time to gel it down.

"Thank you," he chuckles, ducking his head. He's so used to grooming himself, he feels half naked with his hair like this. Not many people get to see him this… au naturel. "How does omelette sound?" he asks, taking their conversation in a better direction.

"Sure, what have you got?"

Not long after, they're headed back to Blaine's room with their food. Blaine made a green salad for them, while Kurt cooked the omelettes. Cheese and ham for Blaine, mushroom and paprika for Kurt.

"I think there is really only one movie we can watch today," Kurt smiles teasingly.

"And what if I don't have that particular DVD?" Blaine asks curiously.

"I do know you," Kurt scoffs. He rummages the DVD-shelves, and pops it in the player. The adventure of Tony Manero entertains them for the next hours.

The movie is almost done when a pair of headlights illuminates Blaine's room from the outside.

"I'll just go check who that is," he says with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He gathers their dishes, and jumps down the stairs.

He hears the sound of a key that's being jostled at the unexpected lack of restrains, because Blaine forgot to lock the door. As usual. He keeps himself busy loading the dish washer with their plates and glasses, willing his breath to even.

"Blaine? You home, son?"

Why? Why does he always get so nervous about seeing his dad again? He swallows, and opens the door from the kitchen to the entrance hallway.

"I'm here, father," he says carefully.

"I didn't expect you to be home now. You didn't mention anything when I called. I wish you'd come by next weekend, I have no plans then. As I told you," the older man says, trying to meet his son's evasive eyes.

"It… It was a sudden decision, father," Blaine gulps.

"OK then. I wish you'd informed me, so I could have told Ella come and make us a proper dinner."

"I didn't think you'd be home until later," Blaine whispers, still dedicated to study the patterns on the floor.

"Son, I realize you're getting older, and it's fine if you want to throw a party here. But at least let me know in advance so I can hide the liqueurs."

"I haven't had a party here, sir!" Blaine exclaims startled. The thought of taking his dad's alcohol and inviting the guys hadn't even crossed his mind.

"But you're not here alone, are you?" The older Anderson is giving him that look that lets Blaine know he has to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help him Gods.

"I have a friend over, I let him have the biggest guest room," Blaine tells him.

"So… A boyfriend kind of friend?"

"A boy who is a friend," Blaine corrects him.

"I never managed to keep track of Cooper's dating life. I was hoping I'd be included whenever you have a boyfriend or two."

"I'd think one would be more than enough," Blaine's assimilated Kurt blurts out, and he wants to kick himself. If he was wearing shoes.

The older Anderson surprises him by laughing full-heartedly.

"Good. The pack of girl Cooper surrounded himself with always threw me out of control. And now I don't know what he does at all. So… Just let me know, whenever, OK?"

Blaine just nods dumbly.

"Well, I believe you have a guest to entertain, so don't let me be the one who makes you act rude. I'll order Chinese. I expect you both for dinner in two hours," he says, and nods pointedly at his son.

Blaine embraces the dismissal, and runs up the stairs back to his room and Kurt.

"I'm so, so sorry!" he whispers frantically as he ejects the door open. "That was my father, and…"

"What is it, Blaine?" Kurt looks so calm, sitting relaxed in Blaine's couch with an old Vogue he must have found in the gramophone table.

"He's expecting us to have dinner with him later. He's ordering Chinese," Blaine adds when Kurt for a moment looks terrified.

"I believe I'll need a decent amount of time in front of a mirror before I can face your dad," Kurt says calmly, but Blaine knows him well enough by now to know he's suppressing his nerves.

"I survived meeting Burt, so…" Blaine laughs awkwardly, trying to lessen the tension.

"But my dad is the world's greatest dad, and you met him several times before we had dinner with them last weekend. I don't know your dad at all," Kurt whimpers.

"I'm so, so sorry," Blaine repeats, kneeling down next to Kurt. "I honestly didn't think he'd be here until much, much later, preferably when we're asleep at Dalton."

Blaine sighs and runs his hands through his curls. He'll need to gel it down before dinner. And put on socks.

"Blaine," Kurt says warningly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be more nervous about this than I am. You're gonna freak me out."

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispers, apparently that's today's theme. "I honestly don't think you have anything to fear. I'm the one who's a…" _disappointment_.

"Let's watch some TV before we get ready," Kurt suggests, and Blaine appreciates the distraction.

"Any requests?"

"Nuh, channel surf until something catches our interest," Kurt shrugs.

Blaine does as Kurt suggests, and sits down next to the boy. Kurt slips his hand into Blaine's slightly trembling one, and it feels as if his lungs are finally opened completely.

* * *

When they step down the stairs, both boys have styled their hair and dressed in something less laidback. Blaine now even in socks.

"Ugh, I still smell like chlorine," Kurt groans.

"I'm pretty sure my father won't be sniffing you out," Blaine smiles timidly, bumping his shoulder against Kurt's.

"Boys, dinner is ready," a voice calls as they finish the last step of the staircase. "Oh, you're already here," he says as they enter the lounge.

Kurt finds himself face to face with an ordinary looking man. Somewhat taller than Kurt, brown hair, blue eyes, classically handsome in his grey suit pants and vest, white shirt and plain tie. Kurt briefly considers positioning Blaine next to the man to compare, because they really don't look like father and son at all. But, neither does the two Hummels, so.

"Father, I would like you to meet my good friend, Kurt Hummel," Blaine introduces him.

"Good evening, Mr. Anderson, nice to meet you," Kurt greets him, extending his arm as he looks him straight in the eyes with a polite smile.

"Good evening, Kurt, it's always nice to meet Blaine's friends," he says, shaking hands with the boy. "Dinner is ready, if you'd like to follow me."

Mr. Anderson leads them into the dining room, where he's set the grand table. A crystal carafe with ice water and three matching stem glasses, linen napkins, lit candles, a silver bowl with steaming rice, silver cutlery, three plates in a delicate china, and the cardboard boxes with the take out daintily placed on the elegant plates.

Kurt bites his lip to hold back the laughter, and realizes how important Ella is for this household.

Blaine briefly rests a hand on Kurt's lower back, guiding him to the side of the table set for two, so his father will be faced against them both. He pulls out the chair for Kurt, gesturing for him to sit down.

"Thank you," he says softly as Blaine sits down on his own chair. It's not uncommon for Blaine to pull out his chair like that, although it doesn't happen everyday. Kurt wonders why he chose to do it today. Is it to impress his father? Is it because his father expects him to do so? Is it to make a statement; a passive-aggressive _yeah, we're both gay, deal with it_? Is it because Blaine's so nervous he falls back to some perfected gentlemannerism simmering in his bone marrow?

Kurt's eyes dart across the table to the older Anderson, and catch his inquiring gaze on his son. Then Blaine's father blinks, and his face is back to neutral.

"Please help yourself," he encourages them.

Kurt quickly looks over at Blaine to see what he does, and is relieved to see they agree. They both unload the food from the cardboard to their plates.

"So Kurt, I don't mean to be rude, but how come I haven't met you before? Wes and David have been here a lot, along with Blaine's other schoolmates."

"I recently transferred to Dalton, sir, Blaine and I only met three months ago."

"What made you transfer in the middle of a semester? Parents relocating?" Mr. Anderson suggests.

"Basically… death threat in my old school, sir," Kurt answers with a slight waver to his voice. The though of what happened is still so unbelievable and unrealistic, like taken out of a TV-show.

Blaine takes his hand under the table, and smiles timidly at him. Kurt returns it.

Mr. Anderson observes them both.

"I see." He takes a moment to drink some water. "So Blaine and you have a lot in common?" he asks with a slightly cheerful voice, as if he's talking about something else entirely.

They all know he isn't, though.

"We do, father," Blaine murmurs, holding Kurt's hand firmer and running a thumb over his knuckles.

"Dalton is a good school," Mr. Anderson states. "Are you a part of the Warblers, Kurt?"

"I am, sir, and it's an honour. They are really talented young men, especially Blaine," he adds.

"Don't sell yourself so short, Kurt. You did a killer solo during our last competition," Blaine gushes.

"Okay, okay, I'm fairly talented as well," Kurt rolls his eyes, but grins at Blaine.

"If you ever get your hands on any video clips of my son performing, I would really appreciate you emailing them to me," the older Anderson says, handing over a business card from his pocket. "I travel a lot, so it's been difficult to catch any of his competitions."

Kurt accepts it, quickly glancing at it.

"Oh, you're named after your father," he says, looking at Blaine.

"Both Cooper and I have Devon as middle names."

"My entire name is Devon Alexander Anderson," Blaine's dad tells Kurt. "And my father's name was Alexander Stuart Anderson."

He gives Kurt a moment to catch up with the name rhythm.

"And your grandfather was Stuart Anderson."

The older Anderson nods approvingly.

"I hope Blaine will continue the family tradition, and name his son Something Blaine Anderson. Or whatever last name he'll have when he's married. I don't know if you'd hyphenate your names, if you'd stick to Anderson, or if you'd take his name?" Alexander asks, looking easily at his son.

Blaine just stares at him.

"I… I haven't really thought that far yet?"

"No rush. Maybe you'll end up with daughters. If you use a surrogate instead of adoption it's impossible to predict the name. We don't have any female name traditions in the family."

"Blaine could be a girl's name," Kurt objects. "I'm sorry, that was out of order and none of my business. It's just…" he hurriedly adds, biting his tongue.

"No, please, tell us what you were thinking," Mr. Anderson encourages.

"My full name is Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, in honour of my mom."

"Oh… That's… sweet."

Kurt can see his middle name doesn't quite sit with Blaine's dad, but Mr. Anderson doesn't say anything else.

"Oh well, as long as at least one of my boys can make me a grandfather, they can name them whatever. Who uses the birth names anyway? Cooper still hasn't stopped calling this one here Squirt."

"Oh really, now?" Kurt grins, turning towards Blaine.

"Why did you have to say that?" Blaine groans, burying his head in his hands.

"Aww Squirt…" Kurt coos. "That's not too bad."

"I'm never letting you meet my brother!"

* * *

It's dark when Blaine kills the ignition in the student parking lot.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me this weekend," Kurt says as they walk towards the dormitory building.

"Of course," Blaine murmurs absentmindedly.

"Where are your thoughts?" Kurt asks, holding the door open to Blaine.

"It's just been a weird afternoon. My father talked with me, we had a real conversation, even broaching the subject of my sexuality. It's… I'm confused. Why now? Is it because we weren't alone? What changed?"

"But Blaine, you said it yourself last weekend. You never go home – you stay at Dalton or hang out with me. Maybe you'd see that he's interested in all of you, if you actually went home so he could see you?"

"I can't believe it's that easy. It's never been before."

"He's a bit obsessed with grandchildren, but otherwise he seems nice. Do you want kids?" he adds, in case that's something Blaine feels as a pressure from home.

"I really haven't given it a lot of thought. I'm in high school; it all seems so distant and _adult_…"

"Well, whatever you want, your dad should respect that, and he'll just have to learn to live with it. And you have a brother who should be backing you up too."

"Yeah, knowing Cooper dad may be a grandfather already."

Kurt snorts.

"You make your brother seem like such a trooper."

"_Super Cooper-beams are gonna blind me. But I won't feel blue, Like I always do. 'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you_," Blaine sings, and twirls Kurt by the hand up the stairs.

Kurt just laughs, and lets Blaine spin him all the way to their rooms.

* * *

**Songs mentioned/lyrics from:**

Sir Mix-A-Lot – _Baby Got Back_

Bee Gees – _Night Fever_

ABBA – _Super Trouper_


	35. Shenanigans

**AN: I hope you're still out there, and haven't abandoned this. Things are happening in RL that I have to make a priority. I have a big paper to hand in in less than four weeks I haven't even begun on, and I've been sick a lot, but I hope things will be better sooooon.**

**If you're still reading - thank you so much! Also a big welcome to the new readers who keep dropping by, I'm excited to see all of you, and the feedback you're giving me is heartwarming and inspiring.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, just a wicked imagination.**

* * *

Kurt winces as he lowers the tray on the table. His arms haven't hurt like this since Coach Sue Sylvester chased him through a complicated routine with a lot of walking on hands and back handsprings.

He sits down for breakfast, and greets his friends around the table. The usual gang is gathered, except for Blaine who's delayed by some pressing student president-matter. He takes a firm grip on the chair to adjust it closer to the table, and winces again. He can't help it, it really hurts. Especially the arm which was broken; he hasn't been able to gain his usual muscles and strength back after the cast was removed yet. It still isn't up for his usual level of activity, and most certainly not workout over an entire weekend.

"What's wrong, Kurt?" Wes asks, sounding worried. He's probably afraid something will interfere with their upcoming performance for the Passerines, Kurt smirks for himself.

"I spent the weekend at Blaine's, and now I feel really sore," he explains unfazed, and pours his yoghurt over the fruit salad.

Nobody around the table says anything, and Kurt finally looks up at them.

"What?"

"Congratulations!" David greets, lifting his coffee mug at him.

Kurt hates the wrinkles popping up on his forehead, but he's truly confused.

"We've all been waiting for this," Jeff grins.

"The first time can be really painful. But it gets better the second time. Or maybe you already know that?" Wes muses.

"There you go being all authoritative on gay sex again," Nick scolds him.

"Oh my God," Kurt exhales, and does a quick recap of what he actually said to the boys. "We were swimming all weekend. And now my arms are sore," Kurt tries to explain, voice high pitched and frantic. "Look!" he says, and tries lifting his arms without wincing, without succeeding.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Wes grins, and nudges him by the shoulder.

The rest of the table joins in on the laughter, and Kurt's face is boiling.

"What's so funny?" Blaine asks, and sits down on the other side of Kurt. "And why is Kurt pink?"

"Because he opened his mouth wide…" Wes drawls, and Kurt looks at him startled, fearing what he may suggest or imply.

"…and put his foot in it," David finishes.

"You're just grumpy because nobody has opened their mouths for you lately," Kurt shoots back.

The table is dead silent, and Kurt wonders how many times he should have bitten his tongue today.

"Remember back when he was this cute, little, endearing spy?" Wes chokes.

"They grow up so fast," David sobs exaggeratedly, wiping away his imagined tears.

Across of him, Nick is leaning forward with his arm raised in the air. Kurt looks puzzled at it for a moment, before it dawns on him. He raises his arms as well, grins, and high fives Nick, almost without hissing at the pain in his muscles.

Blaine looks at him with a fond expression.

"I knew you'd fit in," he leans in and whispers with a smile.

* * *

"And Rachel still doesn't want to tell, but we're positive she's seeing someone. She's acting all focused and determined, as if Regionals is all that matters. She doesn't even flinch when Finn and Quinn kiss, so she's got to have someone else keeping that romantic heart of hers occupied."

"That's interesting," Kurt quickly types, mentally gathering and categorizing evidences. "And you're sure it's no one at McKinley?"

"Who should that be?"

Kurt can practically hear Mercedes huffing at him.

"So who is Chandler Kiehl?"

"Why do you ask?" Kurt asks, before clicking _like_ on a picture Nick has posted from dinner.

"He came up as a new friend of yours, and I don't recognize him as a Warbler, so I'm just curious."

"I met him when I was in Lima last time. He'll be studying musical theatre in New York, so we have some things in common."

"He's cute."

"I guess he is? At least in a hyperactive yapping Pomeranian kind of way."

It takes a moment before Mercedes types out her answer, so Kurt scrolls further through the latest updates. Some of the Warblers are spamming Wes' page with sexy titles and lyrics, and Kurt snorts when Wes' older sister asks if he's coming out of the closet anytime soon.

"Are you flirting? Is he hitting on you? Is he waiting for you in NY? What happened with Blaine? I thought you had something going on with Blaine?"

"God Mercedes, nosy much?"

"It's not being nosy when it's about my boo…"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry."

Kurt thinks for a while before he continues.

"I _think_ he was hitting on me? I'm not good at these things, 'Cedes, you know that. He was all bouncy and attentive and funny, and he made me laugh. It was nice. I enjoyed being in Lima and meeting a stranger that didn't frown upon me or wanted to knock the gay out of me."

"So are you seeing him again?"

"No, not at all. It was a nice moment, which stopped as soon as Blaine entered the shop. Then Chandler calmed down, and eventually left."

"So it's still Blaine? I wish we took this on Skype so I could see your face now, to better read you. Facebook chat is severely lacking."

"It's still Blaine, no doubt about it. And I know."

"How is the boy?"

"We spent the weekend at his place," Kurt quickly types out, knowing it'll tease his friend mercilessly until he reveals more.

"SPILL. NOW!"

Kurt chuckles, and hits the keyboard.

"He's teaching me how to swim so I won't flunk PE, and I met his father."

"Meeting the parents already, huh? Do tell…"

"You're delusional, 'Cedes, seriously delusional."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Still, spill."

Kurt laughs, but tells his friend some more about the weekend.

* * *

It's been a busy day, running around from class to meeting to appointment to class to lunch to class to rehearsal. Despite their shared meals – which Blaine had to cut short because of other obligations, having some classes together and then Warblers', Blaine's hardly talked with Kurt today. The afternoon was spent with weight lifting and cardio in preparations for the fencing tournament this weekend, and then his homework demanded the rest of his attention. It's unusual for Blaine to see this little of Kurt or his other friends in a day. He loves spending time with the, he's a social animal, and it's an important necessity to wind down after a long day with some of the guys before going to bed. But somehow that didn't work out today, and maybe that's why Blaine can't think about anything else but Kurt now that he's finally in bed.

They spent an amazing weekend together, so Blaine shouldn't be this deprived of him. Thinking about the last days makes Blaine's retinas flood with moments and memories. A part of Blaine had been bolder than he thought possible, but another part of him had also been more vulnerable than he'd ever imagined he'd be in front of anyone. It only shows Kurt isn't just anybody.

Blaine feels they actually came closer, and learned some new things about each other. They had both opened up, sharing more of themselves. And Kurt hadn't fled the premises immediately, when he got to know more about Blaine's family, aftermaths of the beating, his struggles and his insecurities.

Burt Kurt had also dared to be vulnerable in front of Blaine, shedding some layers of acted confidence, and let Blaine see how in deep water he really felt. Kurt the control freak had given himself to Blaine in that pool, and Blaine cherishes it as the rare and precious gift it is. Blaine had done his all to honour Kurt by doing his best to help him, find the best methods to gently push Kurt forward without forcing him, or make him feel uncomfortable or intrude on his limits. Blaine once was in the same position; dependent on others to help, and learned a lot about patience, humanity and humility from the physiotherapists and nurses that helped him back on his feet.

A less polite part of Blaine's brain also reminds him of the half naked Kurt he's spent the weekend with. He's seen him shirtless before, but certainly not in the same amounts as now. And even though it was all innocent and for the sake of teaching, a shiver still runs up Blaine's spine thinking about how close to a skin to skin-embrace they had been standing in when Blaine helped Kurt through the arm strokes. Then there had been dancing, and Blaine still doesn't know where he found the courage to ask Kurt to do a duet with him, and he's blown away by Kurt's trust to say yes without knowing which song he was thinking about. It wasn't in character for Blaine to be such a tease either, but maybe he'd needed a moment to think through if the song that came to his mind really was a good suggestion. He's sure it'll be a crowd pleaser, and he knows the Warblers can pull it off with their usual flair, but he wonders if it's in inappropriate song to do with Kurt at this stage.

He'll have to tell the Council tomorrow, so they can finalize their set list. Wes' wrath if someone delays his council kinks is worse than a father's fury.

And then Blaine remembers his father's unexpected return home, and all questions and wonders resurrect in his brain.

What had happened there? Who was that man, and what had he done to his father? What was his angle on this?

Blaine knows his father has always been fairly uncomfortable with Blaine after he came out, and he's always gotten the impression he really hoped Blaine would decide to be straight again, so it could be easier for all of them and they didn't have to deal with _any_ consequences. But some consequences were impossible to erase, like the Sadie Hawkins dance and his mom leaving his father because of their fights over him. Blaine still struggles to move on from those two life altering changes, so it's no wonder his father subsequently resents Blaine for basically destroying their family.

Blaine can't remember his father ever telling him he loves him, or that he forgives him. And Blaine has worked so hard to be a good son, with achievements both within the academic field, in sports, with the Warblers, and with life in general. He's always behaved, worked hard, followed a stricter code of ethics than the one Dalton expects, and done everything in his power to not let his father down any further.

After he transferred to Dalton, it took some time before he could relax around the other guys and trust them. But Wes and David were adamant to become his friend, and managed to weasel themselves into his life. It took a surprisingly short amount of time before he invited them back home for a weekend, to meet his father's constant demand to come home to visit but without doing it on his own. Being home alone with no other company than his father was awkward, to say the least. And father had seemed pleased that Blaine was making friends at his new school, and told him to bring them over whenever.

It didn't happen often, but once in a while they'd drive over to Columbus for the weekend. Despite the wealth of most of the Dalton guys, Blaine still had an outstanding room, or penthouse as Kurt jokingly had branded it. Not long after, Nick and Jeff became a part of the usual suspects; The Five Musketeers, or whatever other Dalton guys called them. Wes and David were perhaps his closest friends, but he was really fond of Nick and Jeff too, and the five of them worked well. But still Blaine sometimes felt left out, or felt as if something was missing. Because Wes and David were still each other's best friends, and Blaine could never achieve the same connection they had. And the bond between Nick and Jeff was admirable, even as Blaine was allowed to follow their relationship' exploration and development, from rough to love.

But now Blaine has Kurt, who's without doubt his best friend, and with a sharp pain of guilt Blaine realizes he's been neglecting his other friends since Kurt transferred, maybe earlier. He should make amends. Maybe they all could go to his place for a weekend?

He wonders if he should aim for a weekend when his father is home, or a weekend he's away on business. He had expressed a desire to see Blaine again, but Blaine hesitates. It was weird, epically weird, to be home and observe his father. He seemed so… open minded, caring, including. And Blaine doesn't know how to deal with that. Was it all an act because Kurt was visiting, and father decided to play The Good Host-card? Is he up to something? Why was his behaviour changed from the last time he brought friends home?

A part of Blaine wants to choose a weekend when his father is home for their next sleepover, to test how he'll act. Was it a momentarily lapse of judgment, or will he go back to the distant, superficial, avoidant father Blaine's used to?

Blaine's so confused, and his head hurts. He simply doesn't understand why his father all of a sudden talks about marriage and grandchildren. Oh God, Blaine hasn't even thought about it himself yet. What if Blaine doesn't want children, and thus ends up disappointing his father – _again_? Or what if the love of his life and he ends up living in a state where marriage equality isn't implemented? Does it mean his father won't value and acknowledge his relationships? Will he think less of them if they don't wed? And what is he expecting, exactly? Unlike his mom, Blaine's father really isn't religious, but he's still a traditional man. Will he only accept marriage in a church? What if Blaine can't get married in a church? What if he proposes to an atheist, who refuses to declare their undying love to a God he doesn't believe in?

Is everything Blaine might do, set up for failure? Will he ever be able to please his father?

Bitter, salt tears trickle down Blaine's cheeks as he gives in to fitful sleep.

* * *

"It literally pains me, having to ruin a perfect blazer like this," Kurt whines, and licks the tip of the thread before aiming it through the eye of the needle.

"I did buy it for the banquet dinner at the fencing tournament, and I told you I'd have to add the Dalton crest," Blaine explains patiently.

"Doesn't make the pain go away…" Kurt mutters, and prods the needle into his wrist pillow. "Okay, where do you want the crest?" he asks, and stands behind Blaine.

Blaine is wearing the blazer from when they went shopping together, twisting and turning in front of the big mirror he bought Kurt.

Kurt positions the crest on Blaine's left side, moving it an inch up and half an inch to the right with his hand under Blaine's arm.

"Perfect!" Blaine beams.

"No, it isn't," Kurt mumbles, and adjust the piece of textile slightly. "That is. Except it ruins a perfect piece of clothing."

He tucks the crest to the blazer with a couple of pins, and motions for Blaine to take it off so he can sew the crest on. He sits down on his bed, legs curled up, and gets on with the job. Blaine lies down on the floor, stretching his arms and legs in opposite directions.

"You never got around to telling me about Wes?"

"Hmm?" Kurt hums absentmindedly, busy tying a knot on the thread so the crest won't fall off in the middle of the appetizers.

"When we went bowling? You made me find out if Wes had any plans that evening, and promised to explain later."

"Oh, right, that," Kurt beams, back on track. He takes a minute to find out how gossipy he's feeling, to decide how he should address the topic at hand. "I believe Wes is seeing someone," he says airily.

"I believe we've already established that. Good for him," Blaine smiles.

"But we haven't revealed who it is."

"Well, it can't be one of the Passerines, as that piece of news would reach David through Sharon – or you'd probably hear it from Flora during one of your coffee chats."

Kurt takes a moment to preen over the fact that Blaine reserves _coffee dates_ to describe what they do, and calls it something else when Kurt meets up with Flora.

"She's not in Westerville," Kurt sing-songs, and Blaine abruptly sits up.

"You actually know who it is?"

"I haven't gotten it confirmed from the source itself, but all evidences lead to one conclusion."

"God, I feel like such a gossip girl," Blaine sighs, running his hands over his face. "Tell me," he laughs, shaking his head.

"The one and only Ms. Berry," Kurt announces with drama and flair.

"No… way…" Blaine whispers.

"Think about it," Kurt begins. "They seemed to get along well during David's New Year's party, dancing and laughing together."

"Yes, I remember he was being overly attentive, making sure her glass was never empty and letting her borrow his mittens during the fireworks."

"Well observed. Then what happened when we came back to Dalton?" Kurt asks with raised eyebrows, as he finishes sewing on the crest.

Blaine looks pensive.

"Wes found his gavel…"

"Yeah, that wasn't Rachel, that was the cleaning staff," Kurt snorts. "The blazer is done, try it on."

Blaine models the blazer, twirling in front of the mirror, and walking up and down Kurt's room. It's with reluctance, but Kurt has to admit the blazer isn't ruined with the crest. Not completely. And it sits fairly well on Blaine's torso. _Perfectly_.

"Thank you so much!" Blaine beams, and carefully sheds the blazer and arranges it over Kurt's desk chair to avoid wrinkles. "And we got introduced to casual Friday this year. You even commented how New Direction-esque it was of the Council."

_You remember I said that?_ Kurt marvels. _Just a silly remark like that?_

"Who else could have inspired Wes to do something like that? None other than Ms. Rachel Bursts-Into-Singing-Anytime Berry."

"It could be a random coincidence," Blaine argues.

"Then explain why New Directions now have a board consisting of Mr. Schue, Rachel and Finn, and are handing their male solos to the other guys?"

"Why are they doing that?"

"Because although they aren't Rachel's boyfriends, they still have good vocals. And, now that she isn't obsessing over Finn, it isn't that important for her to chase him around the piano every week."

"And still Wes is calling you the spy…"

"What, oh what, should we do with this piece of intelligence?" Kurt smirks.

"Oh, this is going to be grand," Blaine grins and gets up from the floor.

* * *

The week is a blur of classes, tests, papers and rehearsals with the Warblers. Blaine presented their idea for a duet to the Council, and they happily accepted. Like the Christmas Ball, their performance at the Valentine's Party at their sister school opens up for anyone who wants to try something on stage, as long as the Council approves. But there are no strict limits to the number of songs they perform.

Kurt had been mortified when he discovered Blaine's song selection, but a promise was a promise. They had of course altered the lyrics somewhat, replacing every "girl" with a "boy". At least at this party they could go all out, and perform as a boy singing to another boy, no pretences.

The Council had been adamant on adding steps to impress the girls. Kurt had tried to reason with Wes in a break that watching two gay guys perform something that was supposed to be sexy hardly would get the mojo flowing among the girls, so couldn't they just focus on the vocals, and let the straight guys woo the girls? But Wes had refused, stating that either they took it all out for their performance, or their duet would be cut.

Which left Kurt with only one choice.

"But I don't know how to be sexy," he whines, sprawled on Nick's bed. "It's going to be completely embarrassing and humiliating, awkward and not at all entertaining. Why does even the Council think that a gay sexy duet will get them girls?"

"They read Hogwarts-fanfiction, and think most girls have some secret kink for Harry and Draco."

"Harry and D…" Kurt splutters. "That's like believing the thought of Hermione and Grinny would make my knees weak," he exclaims scandalized, the idea completely ridiculous to him.

"Well, I wouldn't object to finding a gay couple in such popular books as those. It would be nice to have role models or characters to identify with in popular culture," Jeff interjects.

"Exactly – identify with. Not… getting off to," Kurt whispers.

"Regardless, you have a boy to seduce on that stage," Nick laughs.

"Oh God," Kurt groans, "I can't do this with _Blaine_. Whatever was I thinking?" He rolls around, burying his face in Nick's pillow.

"That you'd like to perform with Blaine," Nick says dryly.

"You don't even have to learn the choreography," Jeff says encouragingly. "The Council wants Blaine and you to just… improvise teasing each other with your moves, while we sing and sway in the background."

"I don't know any teasing moves," Kurt mutters grumpily, words slightly muffled by the pillow.

"I assume you've seen the music video?" Nick says calmly.

"Yes, but she's all hips, shoulders and boobs," Kurt sighs, rolling over to his side and patting his flat chest.

"Well, two out of three ain't bad. And honey – you've got some pretty damn fine hips to work with," Nick winks.

Kurt splutters and blushes.

"Would it help you if Nick and I suggest some dance moves for you?"

"Would you do that?" Kurt asks amazed, thinking it has to be embarrassing for them to dance like that in front of him.

"Why not?" he shrugs, and Nick nods to show he's game. He's already searching for the music video on his phone. He hits play, and the tantalizing beat fills the room.

Nick starts moving in the middle of the room, and it's a far cry from the side stepping the Warblers usually trademark. He's letting the rhythm and beat guide him, tempting Jeff, who's approaching him. He stops behind Nick, wraps an arm loosely around him to rest on his hip, and moves together with his boyfriend.

Kurt is initially watching them through his fingers, but soon lowers his hands. He expected this to be embarrassing, over-sharing, too much. But it's actually kind of sweet to see the boys together like this. They all know this is just for fun, there's no real seduction behind the moves. Kurt moves his hands away from his face completely, and sits up in bed to watch them more properly. This is after all his dance lesson.

Nick steps away from Jeff, dancing slowly while he peaks at Jeff over his shoulder. The other boy drops to his knees, leaning back and fawning himself. Nick laughs fullheartedly, turns around and gives Jeff a hand to drag him up from the floor again. They're dancing face to face, with only half an inch between them, swaying their hips and shoulders to the beat.

Kurt realizes Nick set the song on repeat, when it begins again. Jeff shimmies over to the bed, offering him a hand. Kurt wants to refuse, but he has to do this. And if he can't dance with them, how is he going to perform with Blaine?

"I don't know how to dance like that," he still objects.

"Yes, you do," Jeff reassures him. "We've seen you dance with your girls, this is no different. Just less boobs to avoid," he grins, and Kurt laughs.

"Well, Santana does preach she bought them for people to enjoy them," he smirks.

"Doesn't mean you'd want to be bitch slapped with them, though," Nick chimes in from behind him, and Kurt realizes he's more or less sandwiched between them. It may be Gay Fantasy # 17, but they're his friends, and this is just harmless fun.

"It'll be easier if you keep breathing," Nick teases, so OK, maybe not completely harmless.

"Let us know if something makes you uncomfortable, OK?" Jeff looks him right in the eyes, and Kurt nods.

"We don't exactly run a dance studio, so we're just winging this. But it's supposed to be fun," Nick reassures him.

Kurt nods and laughs.

"I can do fun."

Nick places his hands on Kurt's hips, and helps him flow through the movements.

"We know you've got rhythm in your body, so this is just about you daring to let loose and be sexy."

Nick continues to lead him through the song from behind, and Jeff closes in on his personal space. Nick lets go with one hand, and Jeff places his hand there instead. He winks playfully at Kurt, and pulls him closer so they're chest to chest. All three of them are swaying and bouncing and sliding to the beat together, with wide grins on their faces.

Nick wraps his hands around Kurt's wrists, and raises his arms in the air, holding him there. Jeff drops down along Kurt's torso and leg, before sliding slowly up again, only a couple of inches from him. Nick lowers Kurt's hands to wrap around Jeff's neck, and Kurt cracks up in hysterical laughter.

"Oh my Gods," he hisses through his laughing fits, bent double.

"You OK?" Nick asks slightly worried.

"You just made me think of my brother," Kurt hiccups.

"Why?"

"Because he's a terrible dancer with no sense of body control. I swear he never knows where his feet are. Sometimes, when introducing new routines, Mr. Schue would stand behind Finn and literally lift and move his legs in the right direction."

"Oh my God, that's precious," Jeff giggles.

"Yeah, and we often teased Finn about it. And here I am, having you do the same thing," Kurt is laughing breathlessly, struggling to catch his breath.

"Oh, I felt as if I had been casted for gay _Dirty Dancing_," Nick shrugs. "You're obviously Baby, Jeff is Johnny, and I'm Penny."

"And who's the jerk who knocked you up?" Kurt wonders.

"Seth!" the other boys answer simultaneously and high fives.

When their laughter ebbs out, they dance some more, but this time separated and individually. Kurt gets more comfortable in his skin, and approaches both Nick and Jeff to move closer to them, sliding his hands and body, teasing them playfully and having a blast.

"You know, I don't understand why you worry that much about being sexy. You're hot, Kurt, and you're mesmerizing when you just let go and move on the floor," Nick tells him when they're sick and tired of listening to the same song in an endless loop.

"Word," Jeff adds, nodding and rubbing his chin.

"Sorry guys, not into threesomes," Kurt laughs awkwardly, because awkward is his default to-go when he's flustered like this.

Jeff pouts exaggeratedly.

"Seriously though," Nick insists, sitting down on the bed and patting the mattress to have Kurt sit down as well. Jeff jumps in to sit between his boyfriend's legs.

"You did great, so what are your worries?" Nick continues.

"Don't you get it?" Kurt sighs.

The boys stare blankly at him, so he explains.

"Dancing with the girls? That's fun, and I'm used to it from Glee club, I trust them and know them. Dancing with you? That turned out to be fun as well, because we all know it's innocent, it doesn't mean anything."

"But dancing with Blaine means something," Nick says softly, resting his chin on top of Jeff's head.

"Yes!" Kurt exclaims. "Because he's so… And we're… But I'm just…" he trails off.

Nick and Jeff look sadly at him.

"You wish it'd mean more than it will?" Nick almost whispers.

"Everything we do together matters to me," Kurt says brokenly. "You guys must know how it is? How everything just _feels_ so much, because it's _him_?"

The boyfriends smile at each other, sharing a secretive look.

"Every time he smiles at me… Every time he takes my hands… Or hugs me. Or cuddles in front of the TV. Or just pats my shoulder. Every time means so much to me, my body and soul instantly react, and it's so…"

"Precious?" Jeff suggests, and Kurt simply nods.

"You do know it matters to him as well? He's not like that with anybody else, you are special to him," Nick comforts.

"I know," Kurt says. "I know; we've talked," he says more confident.

"Okay, adding an asterix to that for later, but are you saying you're afraid of feeling too much on stage?"

"I'm as sexually developed as a baby penguin…" Kurt mumbles into his hands, resting on his bent knees.

"In that case you're an amazing actor, because you could have fooled us."

"I haven't even had a kiss that matters," Kurt sighs. "Unkissed, but still expected to hump his leg on stage," he mutters.

"This is going a bit too fast for you," Nick calmly states.

"It would have been fine with anybody else. But it feels wrong to be sexy with Blaine, when I feel the way I feel, and we haven't even kissed. When a simple touch of his fingertips can be that overwhelming, I don't know how to deal with so much more."

"And you don't know if you're able to act it out without feeling it."

"Yeah…" he sighs, feeling exhausted.

"I was about to suggest Blaine and you practice a lot on your own to get rid of all the tension, but maybe that isn't such a good idea anyway," Jeff says hesitantly. "Maybe you'd feel less sexy about it if the dancing always happened in front of a bunch of Warblers. Maybe it would mean something else for you? More of a performance and less of private intimacy?"

"That's actually not a bad idea," Nick chimes in. "And the song is all about teasing, so maybe you should dance more with the back up singers and less with the lead?"

"Yeah," Jeff agrees eagerly. "You do some solo moves, you chase after the Warblers, you let Blaine chase you, and you tease him with some moves, but then spin around to dance with us instead, leaving him hanging."

"You know, that may actually perhaps works," Kurt says hesitantly, still trying to picture the scene "It'll be a more grown up version of _Baby It's Cold Outside_…"

"Great! Let's develop the plot and choreography, so we can present the idea for the Council," Nick beams, hitting play on the music again.

"God, I'm going to hate this song before the party," Kurt groans.

"Hate sex'll work as well," Jeff giggles.

* * *

"You better come to the car and help us bring the shit up, Prancy Smurf," Santana fires off rapidly, and disconnects the phone conversation before he can answer.

He sighs, rolls his eyes, but smiles, and hurriedly slips on some uncomplicated shoes before jogging down to the parking lot.

Because of Blaine's fencing tournament, which he left for right after last class, today's Warblers' rehearsal is cancelled. So, as part of Blaine and his plot to find out more about the blossoming romance between Wes and Rachel, Kurt invited the girls to spend Friday night with him.

Tina had suggested they supply food, and that's probably the bags Santana so politely asked his help for.

The reunion on the parking lot is happy and enthusiastic; hugs, warm embraces and squeals from everybody.

"OK, girls, it's really nice to see all of you, but let's get inside before we freeze essential body parts off."

"Didn't know you'd begun using your essential body parts," Santana winks at him.

"Doesn't mean I don't hope to use them in the future and would like to keep them just in case," Kurt snorts.

"Santana, what happens if your boobs freeze? Will they explode like the beer bottle Lord Tubbington forgot in the freezer? Cold beer is bigger than warm beer, so the bottle was too little," Brittany asks, looking worriedly at Santana's chest.

"No, it'll be OK, Brit-Brit. Why do you ask me that?"

"Because Coach Sylvester said you've put water balloons in your boobs. Maybe I should keep them warm," she offers, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers.

"Let's save it for when we're alone. It'll be fine now, we're almost indoors anyway."

Kurt observes the other girls while the two cheerleaders debate the danger of Santana's breasts. More specifically, he's observing Rachel. The girl is uncharacteristically silent, walking behind Tina and Mercedes, just listening to their giggling conversation. But Kurt also sees how she's looking around, taking it all in. Is she checking out how her date's school looks? Is she looking for him? A wicked smile slowly grows on Kurt's face.

"Finn told me to say 'hi dude' and do this," Quinn slides up next to Kurt, and fist bumps his shoulder.

"Wow," Kurt deadpans, rubbing his sore shoulder. "You really take the role as messenger seriously."

"Enough with the pleasantries," Quinn smiles, that smile Kurt is never quite sure is true or false, but he likes to give her the benefit of the doubt. "Why are you checking out Rachel?"

"Oh, you know, I guess I haven't seen her in a while, almost forgot what she looks like…"

"Yeah, she's been awfully busy lately," Quinn muses.

"She has, hasn't she?" Kurt smirks, and Quinn winks at him.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I haven't got the faintest idea what you're thinking, Quinn."

"Well, it's nice to be back to Dalton, maybe we all get to meet some of our new… _acquaintances_," Quinn smirks.

"Who knows?" Kurt answers airily.

He leads them to the common's room. There are hardly any boys there for now, and Kurt and his girls will have more space than in his room. Santana's abuela has made a wide range of delicious dishes for them, and Rachel has brought vegan cookies. Kurt reheats the spicy meatballs and creamed pasta in the microwave, while the girls set the table.

They've eaten so much most of them are complaining about pants bursting in the seams, when Kurt hears the voices.

"We smell food!" Wes yells, and he comes running down the hallway with David right behind him.

When Wes spots them, he stops so suddenly David runs into his back.

"Oh, Kurt…" he stutters.

"You didn't tell us you were having the girls over?" David smiles, and sidesteps Wes to greet the ladies.

"I guess I didn't," he says, smiling innocently at them. "I guess it's a surprise, then."

"We have enough food to share, if you'd like to sit down with us," Quinn offers, and Kurt is kind of in love with her. She gives him a quick wink.

Wes and David politely accept, and sit down among them.

"Santana's abuela prepared the tapas," Tina explains, and hands the boys clean plates.

"I made the cookies," Rachel rushes out.

"They can hardly be called cookies…" Mercedes mutters, but she doesn't hear her.

"Did you?" Wes says politely, and turns towards her. "I'd like to try one," he decides, and she offers him the pink heart shaped basket with the cookies.

"Mmm, delicious," he murmurs after chewing a bite.

Kurt and Quinn look at each other. _Really?_

The girls from New Directions and the three Warblers talk and joke for a while but then David's phone rings.

"The girlfriend," he excuses himself and leaves.

"Would you like to see the Warblers' room?" Wes offers for Rachel.

"You had the party for Kurt there," Tina reminds him.

"That's right," Wes says slowly, "but it looks different now," he hurriedly adds.

"I'd love to see it," Rachel says shyly.

"Me too," Quinn says eagerly. "Besides, we don't want to risk anyone seeing her thinking McKinley sent another spy. It's better if we all go," she suggests calmly, but under the table her foot is playfully nudging at Kurt's.

"I don't think a suspected rerun of your cute mission will inflict any danger on Rachel," Wes reassures them.

"Can't we all go, Kurt? We haven't sung together for a long time, it would be fun to do that again," Tina pleads.

And nobody can argue against that, so that's how they all end up in Warblers' room.

The girls awe and ooh over the surroundings in the Dalton hallways. They didn't really focus on that when they came to surprise Kurt with a party. They sink down in the plush studded leather couches, and complain about how Mr. Schue's hard chairs.

David sits down by the piano.

"Are you any good?" Mercedes asks. "We want to sing."

"I'm no Blaine, but I'm quite decent," Wes says. "Come with your suggestions, and I'll see what I can do."

Mercedes immediately jumps up, and grabs Tina's hand. They whisper their request in Wes' ear, who nods, and starts fiddling with the keys until he finds the beat.

"Hi!" Mercedes grins sassily.

"Hi!" Tina answers cheekily.

"_We're your Weather Girls…_"

"_Uh-huh!_"

"…_and have we got news for you_," Mercedes still grins. "_Humidity is rising_," Mercedes growls.

"_Barometer's getting low_," Tina adds.

"_According to all sources, the street's the place to go_," Mercedes sings.

'_Cause tonight for the first time, Just about half-past ten, For the first time in history - It's gonna start raining men!_

They sing together, dancing and having fun, split the lyrics, and joke their way through the song. When they're done, Rachel is quickly on her feet, and Kurt sits straighter in the couch. This should be good.

"I'm sure you know this, Wes," she says softly, and Kurt wonders if she's talking about how to play the song or the message in the lyrics.

_You fill up my senses Like a night in a forest, Like a mountain in springtime, Like a walk in the rain, Like a storm in the desert, Like a sleepy blue ocean. You fill up my senses; Come fill me again._

She's standing perfectly still a couple of feet from the piano, facing her friends, but she's darting her eyes in Wes' direction throughout most of the song.

Kurt prevents himself from rolling his eyes, but he has to respond to this, so he takes out his phone.

_She crooned Annie's Song in front of us – including Wes. I rest my case._

Blaine replies immediately, with one single word.

_Bingo._

Kurt smirks and tucks the phone away.

"I believe you said you wanted to sing with _me_," he says haughtily and gets up from the couch.

Brittany claps her hands in excitement, and Tina jumps to back him up.

* * *

"I. Am. So. Bored," Jeff mutters as he flips through the TV-channels, nothing capturing his attention.

"What do we usually do during weekends?" Nick wonders confused?

"Rehearse with the Warblers? Homework? Visiting family? Planning outfits for the week?" Kurt suggests.

He had actually planned going back to Lima, but both his dad and Carole were working, so he decided to stay at Dalton. He thought it could be interesting to see what happened in the dormitory building when there were no obligations whatsoever concerning both homework and Glee club.

"Does anyone have a new DVD we could watch?"

Both Nick and Kurt shake their heads.

"We could play a game?"

"Computer games?" Nick wonders.

"Or board games?" Kurt asks.

"I don't care," Jeff shrugs.

"I'm really not up to either," Nick admits.

"Me neither," Kurt sighs.

They are silent for a while, all three of them shuffling through their phones as if looking for something exciting to do. They are almost alone in the common's room. Two Freshmen they don't know are making something on the stove, and a Senior is napping in one of the big, comfy chairs.

"We could make cookies?" Kurt suggests.

"Yes!" Jeff eagerly agrees.

"But I don't have the ingredients."

"So we should go grocery shopping…" Nick asks?

"Our cars are probably full of snow and ice," Kurt sighs. He hasn't used the car for over a week, and there are no garages to protect the vehicles from the climate.

"I hate how cold my fingers get from removing the ice," Jeff complains with a pout.

"We could order in?" Nick suggests.

"Cookies?" Kurt asks disbelievingly.

"I guess we'd have to order a pizza or something to get dessert with it."

"I had been looking forward to the salmon they're serving for dinner today," Kurt mumbles.

"So no cookies today…" Nick concludes.

"Do we know anyone who's out and could bring back the needed supplies?" Jeff suggests hopefully.

"Blaine, but he's probably coming home late tomorrow," Nick says.

"Oh, have anyone heard how his tournament is doing?" Jeff asks, looking at Kurt.

Kurt checks his phone, even though he hardly misses it when he gets a text. He shakes his head, he hasn't heard from Blaine after he responded to Kurt's good luck-text this morning. But Kurt never expected him to have the phone on him all the time either; he isn't in Akron to keep Kurt entertained.

"We could work more on your sexy dance moves?" Nick suggests.

"No!" Kurt groans. "If I have to hear that song once more this week, I'll go mental."

They're interrupted by Kurt's phone alerting him of an incoming text.

"Oh God," he whimpers when he sees it.

"What is it?" Nick asks worriedly.

Kurt waves the two boys over, so they can watch the Youtube-link Wes sent him. It's a Mad TV parody of – unsurprisingly – the duet he's doing with Blaine next weekend.

"Exactly how mental are you going right now, darling?" Nick giggles.

"Enough to want to pour itching powder in his bed sheets," Kurt mutters.

"That's not the worst idea," Jeff agrees.

"What?"

"Well, he's been awfully bossy lately; it would be nice to see him taken down a notch or two."

"Through some childish pranks?"

Jeff and Nick's eyes gleam eagerly.

"OK," Kurt agrees easily, "but not without a good plan. We'll probably need supplies."

"Oh, then we can also make cookies?" Jeff beams.

"Yes, cookies and mischief, that's on our shopping list."

* * *

Fortuna was on the boys' side, as the Council was having a meeting to prepare for Regionals, and they were meeting up in the Warblers own rehearsal room. Which meant the boys could carry on their plan unobserved.

"But how will we get access to their room?" Kurt asked, used to always locking his door.

"By opening their door," Nick shrugs, hoisting the bag further up on his shoulder. "As David once said – if anyone wants to steal anything from them, their parents can always buy something newer and better to replace it. That goes for most of us here, so why bother stealing?"

Ah. Kurt forgot how much money some of the students at this school came from.

They check that the coast is clear, before sneaking in to Wevid's room.

"You've got the duct tape?" Kurt asks, and Nick presents it from the bag.

"Set these 30 minutes apart," Kurt orders, handing four alarm clocks over to Jeff.

They bought the cheapest alarm clocks they could find, but they also happened to have really shrill bells. They'll set the first to ring at 3 AM, and then the other three to follow up every 30th minute.

Kurt flips the mattresses, and secures the clocks to the bed springs with the duct tape.

"It'll take them forever to find them," Nick snickers.

For the second prank, the three boys had actually argued quite fiercely, before settling on a compromise. Jeff knew the editor of the school paper, and in exchange of a fresh batch of cookies, they got the key to their office for an hour and took good use of the Xerox.

"We have to puzzle these yummy men together, and glue them with the double sided duct tape to the ceiling," Nick says, fanning himself with the stack of A4 sheets, showing parts of mostly naked Channing Tatum and Ian Somerhalder.

"There are worse ways to spend a Saturday," Jeff grins.

They mix up Channing and Ian's belly buttons, but fairly quickly solve it when they see how off the torsos look. Jeff and Nick stand in the beds, gluing the male pieces to the ceiling as Kurt hands them the sheets in the right order. Kurt finishes tucking the alarm clocks to the bed, and lowers the mattresses when the boys are done. As agreed, he hides a cucumber and a small bottle of lube in each bed. He then makes the beds, trying to make them look as they did when they arrived.

"OK, I feel less mental now," Kurt sighs happily. "Let's go; we have some cookies to make and an editor to bribe."

* * *

"Do you think they'll be angry?" Kurt worries later on, curled up in Nick's bed with lukewarm cookies and cold milk.

"Calm your titties, Kurt, these things happen all the time. We're an all boys boarding school. The movies have to get it from somewhere."

Kurt spots the framed poem he gave Nick for Christmas, and thinks about the secret cave meetings of the _Dead Poets' Society_.

"I guess what we did is pretty harmless…"

"Exactly," Jeff reassures him. "Just letting out some steam, nothing more."

"What this could escalate to, though, that's a whole another banana to peal," Nick mumbles drowsily from Jeff's lap.

Kurt looks questioningly at Nick, but lets it rest. He got the message.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he almost giggles from the tickling sensation. He'd sent a picture to Blaine of their shenanigans, explaining briefly _what_, but avoiding the _why_.

Blaine returns a picture of assumingly him in his fencing… mask? Head gear? Helmet? Maybe he should read up on his non-existent fencing knowledge… The Probably-Blaine-Person is giving two thumbs up, and Blaine's captioned the picture ABA.

_ABA? How's the tournament going?_

"_Approved By Anderson." It's a seal of quality, you should know. I won my games today, and am aiming for finales tomorrow. Tonight I get to strut in my new blazer ;)_

_Which is of course ABH._

_Of course. I'm humbled and honoured to get fashion advice from the one and only Hummel ;)_

_As you should. Break a leg tomorrow! Or impale an organ? IDK; go get them, tiger!_

_Meow…_

_You're going to purr to intimidate your opponents during the banquet tonight, aren't you?_

_If only the Dalton Code of Sportsmanship would allow it._

_I feel your pain, Anderson…_

_I'm so glad you know me that well._

_I'm so sad you don't know me better than that._

"What's Blaine saying?" Nick asks eagerly, kicking at Kurt's legs to get his attention.

"Why do you think I'm texting Blaine?"

"Because you have your Blaine face on," Jeff beams through cookie crumbles.

"Table manners," Kurt scolds, handing him a napkin.

"For all we know it could be your orgasm face, but at least it's the face you save for Blaine when you're being all fluffy, mushy, cuddly, adorable, tip-toeing, frustrating."

"Org…? Oh my God, you're such boys," Kurt rolls his eyes.

"It makes it a hell of a lot easier to be gay," Jeff shrugs. "Being boys, I mean," he adds when Kurt doesn't respond.

"The horror if you had boobs…" Nick shakes his head in disbelief, and Jeff looks as if the thought actually petrifies him.

"You think you're so clever," Kurt scoffs.

"And you're a bit dumb, because you still haven't managed to tell us how Blaine is doing?"

"He advanced in the tournament, so he'll be fencing tomorrow too, coming closer to a finale," Kurt admits defeat, knowing they know.

"Tell him he'll find himself locked out if he doesn't come back with a medal around that short neck of his."

* * *

The next morning Nick wakes up abruptly to the sound of a shrill, deafening scream. He's out of bed and halfway down the hallway before he can think about where the sound comes from. He shakes his head clear, and locates the sound to come from Kurt's room. He stumbles through the door, looking worriedly around the empty room.

"Kurt?!"

"This is no longer harmless," Kurt mutters, stepping out of the bathroom.

"What the hell happened?" Nick exclaims, starring at Kurt's white head. His hair and his face are covered in… something.

Kurt lifts his hand holding a hair blower.

"I was going to dry my hair. And then this happened…"

Nick steps closer as Jeff joins them. He runs a finger across Kurt's forehead, and a white powdery substance disappears in its trail. He then takes the blower from Kurt, steps into the bathroom, and starts it facing the shower. More white powder shoots out from the front of the hair dryer.

"Cooking so early in the morning, Kurt?" David asks from the door opening, and Wes is leaning against him.

"Consider this the glove accepted," Wes smirks, and the two boys abruptly turn around and leave.

"Flour…" Kurt whimpers. "They put flour in my hairdryer. I have flour in my hair. And my skin. I have to shower again. Twice. At least. Guys, you have revenge to plot," he dismisses them, and closes the door to the bathroom. "Oh, and check your hairdryer too," he opens the door to add.

* * *

They don't know where Wes and David are, and for how long they'll be gone, so the three boys are working quickly with their revenge. The plot is simple enough, but the props are not.

With the duct tape from the last prank, they're taping saran wrap in the door opening leading in to Wes and David. The wrap is having an affectionate relationship to itself, and is hard convinced to cooperate, and they have to go through almost an entire roll before they manage to get the almost transparent material up. When it is securely taped to the top of the door frame, they stretch it as good as possible, tape it to the bottom, and work out any crinkles and bubbles to make it as invisible as possible. They add duct tape to the sides as well, hoping Wes and David won't notice the silver before it's too late.

Kurt heats a bowl of syrup in the microwave for half a minute to make it more fluid, and with a baking pencil paints the saran wrap with the syrup. Carefully they close the door, knowing they only have half an inch between the trap and the door.

And then they get the hell out of there.

* * *

It's close to midnight before Blaine comes back to Dalton, but of course he knows curfew won't be a problem when he's been representing Dalton. He's exhausted, his body hurts everywhere, and each step from the car to his room is an effort. But there's a satisfied smile on his lips.

As usual he's forgotten to lock his room, no wonder as he seems to have forgotten his keys as well. So he walks right in, but doesn't touch the light switch. His sore eyes can't take the bright light. He's glad the official Dalton representative chaperoning him was driving; Blaine suspects he would have been a hazard behind the wheels tonight.

He dumps his suitcase and bag in a corner of the room, quickly deciding to take care of them tomorrow instead. While picking up his navy blue pyjamas from the wardrobe, he manages to kick his naked foot on his desk, and he hisses, jumping around clutching his toes.

That's when he notices movement in his bed.

"Is that you, Blaine?" the familiar voice of Kurt mumbles drowsily.

"Yeah, it's me," he reassures him, looking around the room to make sure he didn't step through the wrong door.

Kurt scoots up and switches on the bedside lamp.

"I'm sorry about this, but I couldn't get into my room, so I thought I could rest here until you came back and then head for the common's room," Kurt says apologetically, wringing his hands. "I must have fallen asleep."

"Hey, hey, it's OK, of course. But why can't you get into your room?"

"Wes and David didn't approve of our sweet surprise, so my door is blocked. Yeah, also the one from here to me, they sure know to think about everything," he snorts.

Blaine steps into the bathroom to see what his crazy friends have done.

"I see," he says slowly, and observes the wall blocking the door. They've made a block of disposable plastic cups, stacked from floor to ceiling. They've of course also filled them with water, like a liquid card house.

"I went to a movie with Nick and Jeff, and we came back quite late. I saw this, and just didn't know how to begin. I was tired, and fantasized about it disappearing over night," Kurt explains, coming up by Blaine's side.

"Let's just get to bed," Blaine says softly, interrupted by a yawn. "Tomorrow we'll fix this, and plot revenge," he says, placing a hand on Kurt's lower back to guide him out of the bathroom. "Do you want to borrow some sweats?" he says, looking at Kurt's jeans. Those can't be comfortable to sleep in.

"Yes, please," Kurt smiles gratefully.

They get ready for bed; changing clothes and brushing teeth, before Kurt remembers to ask Blaine how he did in the tournament. He mentally kicks himself for being so thoughtless.

"I got the silver medal," Blaine yawns, too tired to muster any excitement.

"Are you… happy with that?" Kurt asks hesitantly, not sure whether to be happy for him or share his disappointment.

"Kurt, two years ago I didn't know if I'd be able to walk properly again. Winning a medal in a tournament and qualifying for the state champion – that's pretty amazing to me," Blaine gushes tiredly, tucking the covers around both of them.

"You're so strong and brave, Blaine, I'm so proud of you!" Kurt beams at him. He's really impressed by how level headed Blaine is about this – both the aftermaths of the attack and the fencing tournament. The boy has perspective.

He reaches out a hand for the bedside lamp.

"You've got black finger nails," Blaine comments dumbly, ignoring Kurt's praise.

"That would be the workings of Brittany. I had to explain where you were, so she wanted me to look more bad ass to be safe from you if you suddenly became dangerous."

"I see," Blaine says in a tone of voice that reveals that he actually understands; he knows Brittany well enough. Kurt kind of likes him even more for that.

"Oh, I forgot," Kurt exclaims. "She made you a gift. From one of my scarves, Blaine, my scarves! Luckily it's an old one, but still – she sacrificed my wardrobe to make you a gift," Kurt huffs.

"Well, I'm flattered, although I don't know the occasion. Let's hope it was worth the sacrifice. What did she make me?"

"I'm not sure, she wouldn't say, but she told me she hid it among your pillows, so it was close when danger happens."

"Danger happens?" Blaine's eyebrows shoot to the top of his forehead. "Have you looked?"

"No, of course not," Kurt huffs exaggeratedly, "it's a gift for you."

"OK, scoot, I have pillows to examine."

Blaine finally finds the gift wrapped in a paper bag in one of the pillow cases. He examines the black scarf, and eventually grins. He ties it around his head, adjusting it so the two holes Brittany has cut out is in front of his eyes. Along with the scarf is also a black simple t-shirt he recognizes as his. At first he sees nothing different with it, but then notices three long tears in it.

"You have to put it on, I promised you'd text her and let her know if you enjoyed your gift," Kurt encourages.

Blaine smiles, quickly unbuttons his pyjamas top, and carefully pulls the t-shirt over his head without messing up how the scarf is draped.

The tears in the shirt make a zigzag pattern, and his skin is vaguely visible. To add dramatic flair, she's coloured with red nail polish along the tears.

"Oh my Gods," Kurt whispers, "she's made you a Zorro outfit."

Blaine beams, picks up his phone, urging Kurt to take a picture of him he can send Brittany.

Kurt steadies his shaking hand before snatching a couple of pictures. Blaine looks ridiculously hot, kneeling in his bed with the thorn t-shirt, mask over his eyes, a wicked grin, and tousled curls sticking up around the scarf.

"Please tell me you have your sword here," Kurt all but whimpers.

"It's an épée," Blaine corrects him with a gentle smile. "But yes, I have it here."

"Brittany would get a kick out of that," Kurt says, desperately wondering how he can get a hold of the pictures too.

Blaine picks up his weapon, and poses dramatically for a quick photo shoot. Before long he drops it on the floor, and takes his phone from Kurt.

"Bed, now," he pleads, crawling over Kurt to get to the free space. "Sadly I have classes tomorrow."

"I didn't know you were into role playing, Don Diego de la Vega," Kurt tugs playfully at Blaine's mask. "Putting up such an act of an innocent, dutiful school boy?"

Blaine freezes and is silent for a moment, still straddling Kurt lying under the covers. He then guffaws, hard and with a big smile on his face.

"Keep up the flattering, and I'll let you see Tornado tomorrow."

"Is that an innuendo for something?" Kurt asks coyly.

"You've spent way too much time with Nick and Jeff," Blaine laughs, and rips off his mask. "Now let's go to sleep. I'm exhausted, and tomorrow we're facing two thirds of a Council who should be very afraid."

Blaine crawls under the covers, lying with his back to Kurt.

"I won a medal today, I think I deserve cuddles," he pouts.

Kurt oh so happily obliges.

* * *

**Lyrics from**

The Weather Girls – _It's Raining Men_

John Denver – _Annie's Song_


	36. Valentine

**AN: Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews and comments after my last chapter.**

**Consider this chapter my Valentine's Day gift to all of my lovely readers!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything else you recognize in this story.**

* * *

Most of the morning is spent carefully dissembling the water walls Wes and David built in Kurt's door opening. The cups in each row are glued together, making the work even more difficult. The rows may stand pretty solid on top of each other, but when lifted, they become all wobbly and unpredictable; like one of the tiny accordions in any Disney movie. But with great patience, Kurt and Blaine manage to clear the path without inflicting any water damage. Finally, Kurt can get to his own clothes, and get ready for a new school day.

He's pretty cranky, though, when they enter the dining hall. Thanks to Wes and David, he didn't have enough time for his skin care regime this morning, and he's having a bad hair day.

His lips twitches and threatens to curl into a smile when he spots the four friends by their usual table, though. Because on Blaine's usual seat is a bouquet of tulips and a cupcake with a candle waiting. As soon as Wes spots Blaine, they light the candle, and all four of them stand up. Wes counts down, and Nick and Jeff begin a steady beat. Soon after David adds his booming baritone to the beat.

Blaine looks confused, frozen on his spot. Kurt stays by his side, not knowing what to do.

Wes takes a step forward with his interlaced hands resting in front of him. Like a cute choir boy he softly sings:

_We've come a long long way together, Through the hard times and the good, I have to celebrate you baby, I have to praise you like I should._

As he holds the note for infinity, the rest of the Warblers get up, and add different sounds and beats to the mix. There are drums, electric guitar, bass, rhythm section, piano; all created through the vocal chords of the amazing Warblers.

It confuses Kurt that the Warblers have prepared anything like this without him. Blaine is blushing, and moves to hide behind a big pillar, but Kurt catches him by the shoulder and holds him steady.

"Enjoy your song," he scolds in a whisper in the boy's ear.

Wes continues on the chorus.

_I have to praise you, I have to praise you, I have to praise you, I have to praise you like I should._

He alternates between the verse and the chorus of the fairly simple melody and lyrics, and repeats it three times, before he again prolongs the last note in "should". Then the room drops silent, not a sound, for two seconds, just the deafening sound of anticipation – before the room explodes as the Warblers intensify their performance. Some of the boys use their fists on tables to add to the beat, some are freestyling on their backs, Wes is doing some intricate moves that might actually snap his ankles, and gradually the boys are drawing closer to Blaine, circling him.

_I have to praise you, I have to praise you, I have to praise you, I have to praise you like I should._

Kurt takes a couple of steps away to let Blaine bask on his own, as he fully deserves, and joins in on the last chorus.

"Congratulations with your silver medal, Blaine – well done!" Wes beams, voice shivering between serious Council mode and ecstatic friend mode, before engulfing him in a tight hug.

The rest of the boys slap him on the back, bump his fist, hug him with one arm, and exchange other testosterone loaded ways of greeting and appreciation.

"Guys…" Blaine laughs, shaking his head in disbelief, and capturing Trent violently to give him an honest hug instead of having his hair ruffled.

"You are the best. Thank you so much!" he says sincerely, and they get back to their seats to finish breakfast.

Blaine blows the candle on the cupcake, and takes a closer look on the yellow tulips.

"It's really sweet of you; I don't understand how you managed to pull this together in such a short time."

Proudly Wes begins explaining about the extra rehearsal he summoned the boys for before breakfast, assisted by David's take on what happened. Feeling confident they're sufficiently distracted, Kurt leans closer to Nick and whispers.

"Had anything happened in your rooms when we came back from the movie last night?"

Both Nick and Jeff roll their eyes and nod.

"My bed was enveloped in several layers of saran wrap. And they had tucked pushpins in between, so it was impossible to lie down on top of the wrapping," Nick silently groans.

"I found half of a snowman in my bed," Jeff pouts.

"Only half?" Kurt asks.

"He'd been lying there for a while…"

"Luckily my roommate visited his family over the weekend, so we crashed in his bed."

"And the song," Kurt gestures discreetly at Wes and David, "what does that mean?"

"It means we decided on a truce for Blaine's sake. But revenge is on. Oh, it's on, baby," Nick roars. "They couldn't ask you to join without making Blaine suspicious, they saw you sleeping together."

"I'll have to teach Blaine to lock his doors at night," Kurt sighs. "He said he has an idea for revenge, though. Meet us in his room after last class," Kurt quickly whispers, noticing Wes shooting suspicious looks at him, so he continues to eat his breakfast innocently.

* * *

Wes is giving them a hard time during rehearsals, drilling the Warblers into epic sexiness. Kurt still feels rather uncomfortable, but he tries to think about it as acting classes. Nick and Jeff are goofing around with him, and it helps him loosen somewhat up.

"Don't try so hard," Nick quickly tells him in a short water break. "You don't have to fight to be something you already are. And just imagine how hot you can be once you get out of that uniform," he grins and winks.

Oh Gods. Kurt hasn't even begun thinking about what he should wear for the Valentine's Party. How is he going to be able to pull together an outfit that will make him sexy enough to convince the girls with his performance, and sexy enough for Blaine to appreciate his appearance? How do you dress up to be sexy for **girls**? And how on earth is he going to dress to be sexy for the boy he likes?

* * *

"So, the crucial element for this revenge to work is that Wes and David see you prepare it, and make sure there is no doubt left in their minds that it comes from you."

"Who knew your mind could be this wicked? Your innocent school boy-image is cracking, Anderson," Kurt smirks, thinking about the brief Zorro stint from last night.

Blaine may be thinking about the same quips, considering his blush.

"Does everybody know what to do?" he asks instead, focusing his eyes on Nick and Jeff.

All four boys nod, and reach out their arms, hands meeting in the middle for a cheer.

* * *

After dinner on Tuesday, Blaine finds himself in a glomp from Wes and David, landing in a human pile on the floor.

"Blaine, it's so good to see you again!" Wes shrieks, clutching to Blaine's knees.

"What do you mean?" he laughs, trying to shake the boy off of his legs. It's not easy, with David lying across his stomach, holding Blaine's left hand to rest his head on.

"We haven't seen you in ages, we're so glad to finally see **you** again."

"What do you mean?" he repeats. "I wasn't gone that long."

"Yeah, you kind of were," David says, nuzzling into Blaine's palm. "For several weeks, months even, you've been Blaine-and-Kurt, so it was nice to see you and just you now."

"We miss our friend," Wes faux sulks, banging his forehead to Blaine's knee caps.

OK, maybe Blaine's been somewhat focused on Kurt, maybe he's neglected his friends. Not intentionally, though, and he tries to console his guilt that he recently decided to invite them to Columbus.

"So do you guys want to come to my room and hang out?" Blaine suggest, knowing that's exactly what the boys are aiming for. They both have roommates, so it's always easier to spend time in Blaine's room.

Kurt got a phone call and thus left dinner early. Blaine discreetly sends him a short text while he walks his crazy friends back to the dormitories.

_Operation Machiavelli is a go. Give me one hour._

* * *

"Do you realize you said 'this conversation will continue later' during the Christmas ball, and we still haven't had time to sit down for a heart to heart?" Wes looks accusingly at Blaine from where he's sprawled on the bed.

"I'm afraid you'll have to refresh my memory," he says, not quite sure what Wes is talking about. Most of what he remembers from the ball has to do with Kurt.

"I simply mentioned how good Kurt is for you, but we were interrupted by said boy."

Oh. That…

"He's a good friend," Blaine shrugs, twirling on the desk chair.

"Is that all he is, though?" David says calmly from his position on the floor, looking at him. Blaine can hardly blink.

"Don't you think that's a matter between him and me?"

"We're just worried you're wasting something good here," David says, still calmly. He's impossible to fight with, when he's being all level headed and serene.

"You do have a tendency to strive for perfection, but if you're waiting for something specific before asking him out – stop it. It'll be perfect, because it's you. And Kurt. On a date," Wes says softly, being the supportive friend Blaine really loves.

He mulls the sentences over and over in his head to check they will sound right before answering.

"I don't see why this is any of your business, but Kurt and I have spoken about it. We have an…understanding. He knows about my issues, and we're taking things slow."

"No, glaciers take it slow. And what exactly are the _issues_ you've informed him about?"

"I'm a coward. I'm not brave enough to do the things a proper boyfriend would do, and Kurt deserves the best."

"Oh Blaine…" David sighs.

"We respect and understand that you're still scarred, we do. But Kurt doesn't want perfect; he wants you. And as I've said before: He's good for you. Maybe he could be the one to give you courage when you can't channel it from yourself," Wes gently reminds him.

Blaine snorts at the irony of all the _courage_-texts he's sent Kurt, and then he smiles sadly, because snorting is such a Kurt thing to do.

"I'm just not ready."

"OK, but you say you're taking it slow, which must mean you're actively trying to move this in a certain direction. Tell us what you **do** to make it happen. Is he your date at the party?"

"I haven't considered it as something to take a date to, it's just a party."

"Yeah, no, a Valentine's Party wouldn't be romantic, I can see that," David says sarcastically.

"Is that why the Council is going for _sexy_ as our theme this year?"

"Point taken," David says solemnly.

"But are you going to do anything special for him on Valentine's Day?" Wes interjects.

"I don't know…"

"But you've been thinking about it. Your tone of voice says so," Wes insists.

"I saw this thing I thought Kurt would enjoy…" Blaine's eyes dart to under his bed, where he has a big box to hide secrets and things which need privacy. His diary, lyrics he writes, a secret stash of candy David can never know about – and the wrapped gift for Kurt.

"And you acted impulsively again."

"He's birthday is coming up," Blaine says defensively. Wes and David just look at him. "In May…" he adds reluctantly.

"What are your reasons for not giving it to him for Valentine's Day," Wes asks curiously.

"I'm all for grand gestures, and you know that. But I don't want to give off the wrong impression."

"What kind of impressions would the gift give?"

"That I like him? That he's special to me? That I want to do something special for him? That I'd like to be more than just friends one day?"

"And how are those impressions **wrong**?" Wes asks pointedly, David nodding along.

"I just don't want to rush us before I'm ready..." he mumbles.

"While we," David quickly glances to Wes to double check, and gets a nod, "believe Kurt is a true romantic that would appreciate attention on Valentine's Day."

"But it's such a couply thing to do," Blaine whines, struggling with the want to do something nice for Kurt, but not leading him on.

"Blaine. Most things the two of you do are 'couply things'," Wes deadpans, making air quotes.

"Can we go and shoot some bad guys?" Blaine pleads.

"Talk about romance," David mumbles, but smiles.

Blaine kind of loves them for not stalking a subject when he wants to drop it. He subtly checks the time on his phone, and it's been 75 minutes since he texted Kurt. The boys should be ready with the preparations.

The three boys walk out to the common's room where the best game consoles are.

"Oh, hi!" Wes exclaims, sounding surprised to see Kurt, Nick and Jeff by the kitchen island in the common's room.

"Hey Kurt. Guys," Blaine says, trying to greet them as nonchalantly as possible. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, just making cookies," Kurt smiles, winking at him.

"Kurt found this recipe, with a special ingredient," Nick smirks, quickly glancing at Wes and David. Jeff is muffling his laughter by hiding his mouth in Nick's neck.

"Didn't expect you here," Kurt says, sniffing the batter. "I guess it smells right," he shrugs to his co-chefs.

"We were planning to fight some zombies," Wes says, eyeing the baking bowl. "Wouldn't it be easier to just taste it?" he says, nodding at the way Kurt is apparently listening to the batter.

"Hmm? Oh, no, I don't think I want to taste this. OK, let's get the baking trays ready," he says, hip bumping Nick away from the oven.

The boys finish the work, and Wevid and Blaine get absorbed in their video game.

"Thank you for helping me, guys. This should be fun," Kurt giggles as Nick and Jeff leave.

The cookies are still in the oven, and Kurt sits down on the arm rest next to where Blaine and the boys have crowded the couch for prime view of the TV-screen.

The heat radiating from Kurt is distracting in all the best way, and he smells so, so good. It's a mix of his usual cologne, chocolate and something he can't quite identify.

Wes easily blows Blaine's head off, and he's out of lives, so he hands the control over to David to continue the game. Blaine takes a deep breath, and sits still, enjoying how Kurt overflows his senses. They're sitting so close, Blaine's elbow is almost touching Kurt's thigh.

The kitchen timer goes off, and Kurt jumps to get the cookies out. He deftly flips them over to the cooling rack, and quickly washes the utensils they used.

When he comes back, he sits down on the same spot as he just vacated, but this time he leans his elbow on the back rest, laying his head in his hand. Blaine shifts slightly in his seat, and he can almost imagine he's sitting in Kurt's arm.

Kurt subtly kicks his foot against Blaine's, and he doesn't understand why. He looks questioningly at Kurt, who looks pointedly at him and nodding at the cooling cookies.

Oh, right, they had a script to follow.

"So, any chance of getting to taste one of those cookies," he asks, smiling eagerly, but knowing what the answer will be, according to their plan.

"I'm sorry, Blaine, but those special cookies are a gift to someone who deserves it. But I can make some regular for us another day. Is that OK?"

"Of course," Blaine smiles softly. "I love your cookies; they're kind of addictive."

"Yeah, sugar can have that effect," Kurt snorts.

"We want cookies too!" David objects and Kurt smiles smugly at him.

"We'll see, then. I've had a lot of water lately, maybe I'll fancy something else later this week," he says calmly. "Who knows what happens…"

With that Kurt gets up, his hand brushing against Blaine's neck as he heads for the kitchen island, leaving a trail of goose bumps after him.

Blaine knows what he has to do. If he can't give Kurt his heart yet, he can at least give him something for February 14th.

* * *

"Do you think it'll work?" Kurt asks as Blaine steps into his room.

"Did you leave the jar in one of their rooms?" he parries.

"Of course not," Kurt scoffs. "I wouldn't trust my precious cookie jar with those to. I filled two paper bags with cookies, wrote an appropriate greeting on each, and left them on their beds," he explains, and reveals the jar hidden behind the curtains on his wide windowsill.

"Are there any left?" Blaine asks hopefully, and Kurt nods. "Then I'm glad I brought us tea," he says as he sits down next to Kurt in his bed, and gives him one of the steaming mugs.

Kurt offers him cookies in return, and balances the fragile jar on the mattress between them.

"What's the secret ingredient?" Blaine asks, taking a generous bite of a chocolate chip cookie.

"Cinnamon. But I really hope the boys think its something else."

"They looked longingly at you when you left."

"Yeah, I know I'm irresistible," Kurt sighs, fanning himself.

"Mmm, these are delicious," Blaine hums, preventing himself from saying something inappropriate about Kurt's irresistibleness. "And yes, I firmly believe our plan will work. You just wait and see."

* * *

"Hey guys?" Wes says, running to catch up with Nick and Jeff. "Were the cookies from you?"

"Maybe?" Jeff says innocently.

"We appreciate them, but… Umm… What's the secret ingredient?"

"Oh, we wouldn't know, Kurt was in charge of the batter at that moment. We just saw him use a bottle from his pocket. Could have been anything," Nick shrugs.

"Oh, okay. Thank you, though."

* * *

"Good evening, Kurt," David greets as he sits down by their usual dinner table. So far Blaine and Kurt are the only present.

"Those cookies were delicious," David beams. "But that secret ingredient made me curious; what was that? My mom is an avid baker, so I'd like to tell her to use the same."

"If you really ate the cookie, you'd recognize pretty soon what the ingredient is," Kurt smirks, taking a chance and applying his poker face.

"You're right; I haven't dared taste it yet. But I'm afraid only because I have allergies, so I need to know the secret ingredient," David pleads.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about **allergies**," Kurt laughs, clearly emphasizing the last word.

David doesn't get the chance to ask more, as Kurt has to leave to meet Flora for coffee.

* * *

The rest of the week is a busy blur, with preparations for the upcoming performance, Kurt desperately rummaging through his wardrobe to create outfit candidates, freaking out and then trying to calm himself into believing he can pull off sexy, oh, and yes, schoolwork too. David and Wes keep bugging Kurt and Niff about the cookies, trying to smoke out the secret ingredient. Nick's roommate overheard the boys discussing the possibility of itching powder, laxatives, Mexican chilli, cannabis, or salt. Kurt had snorted at that piece of information. He appreciated the creativity, though. Neither Nick, Jeff nor Kurt caved and told the boys – or anybody else but Blaine – that the cookies were harmless. This was too much fun!

During rehearsal, two desperate looking Council members tried to offer the Warblers cookies, assumingly looking for innocent guinea pigs. But by now, every single member was up to date on the prank-war between the boys, and had reasons not to taste the cookies.

David and Wes were obviously frustrated. Their sweet tooth was no secret, and the cookies were tempting. But was it worth it? They'd carry the paper bags around everywhere, asking random Dalton students to have a taste, but everybody knew about the boys' antics, and nobody trusted them, not even when they on Friday dressed up like Cupids during lunch hour, and tried to hand out the cookies as Valentine's Day gifts.

Blaine managed to remain perceived as the innocent bystander to it all, and the two hungry Warblers had even come to him to cry out their despair, not trusting to taste the cookies, but still eager to do so, because they both knew Kurt's qualities in a kitchen.

Kurt thanked Blaine profusely for his idea, knowing few plots for revenge would have been able to disturb Wes and David for five entire days.

"Remind me to never ever become your enemy," he grinned, pulling Blaine in for a warm hug.

Oh, revenge was sweet!

* * *

Kurt critically examines the mirror reflection. He still has thirty minutes. Because the party is hosted by their sister school, the Warblers are representing Dalton. Therefore the administration offered them the school bus; the same bus that took them to Sectionals.

Kurt had been told the party would be innocent – no alcohol, and plenty of chaperons. You do not mess with a Catholic all girls-school. The party was first and foremost an opportunity to perform for an audience to prepare for the spring semester, but both school administrations had graciously allowed their students to be out of uniform for this annual tradition.

Needless to say, it would be nice for the straight majority of the students to see someone of the opposite sex, and several teenage couples in Westerville do indeed consist of one Warbler and one Passerine.

Besides it being a harmless, sober arena to showcase talents and love interests, Kurt doesn't quite know what to expect. At least he can be out of uniform, and dress up with fabricated confidence. He's chosen a pair of white jeans sitting snugly, low on his hips. He invested in a pair of slim hot pink suspenders, in honour of the occasion, but lets them hang loose down his thighs. He does know how to accessorize, after all. He's wearing the Alexander McQueen Black Joust High Tops he got for Christmas. This seems like a perfect opportunity to christen the shoes.

On his upper body he's donning a white tight undershirt and a black button up with army details. He's tucked it into his pants, but is fiddling with the top buttons, wondering if he can pull off leaving some of them open. Slung over his left shoulder is a baby pink tie he wants to use, but he still has to decide if he'll tie it primly under the collar of the shirt or if it should be draped loosely around his neck and tucked under his button up.

His hair and face is ready; he's indulging with some subtle make up today, and all that is left is to decide what to do with the top three buttons of his shirt and then consequently the tie.

"I see Sexy-Kurt came out to play."

Kurt almost inflicts himself with whiplash as he spins to see who's spying on him.

"Hi Nick," he says, letting out a big sigh of relief. "You look good!" he compliments, taking in Nick's outfit. He's wearing fitted dark blue jeans, a black button up and a light blue cashmere v-neck.

"Thank you. I was wondering if you have a tie I can borrow. And if I might add; nice touch with the suspenders. It really draws attention to that sweet ass of yours," he winks.

Kurt all but squeals, and slaps his hands on his behind to hide it.

"What? Hasn't anybody complimented you like that before?"

"No," Kurt says, "and now I feel I should change."

"Don't. You look really good. **Somebody** might appreciate it," Nick says, nodding at the bathroom door where they can hear Blaine humming. "Don't change a thing."

Kurt turns around to the mirror once more. So he guesses that's how it'll be then, with a couple of unbuttoned buttons and tie loosely looped around his neck. He feels sloppy, but what does he know about **sexy**?

"Right, tie, I'm sure I have something that'll work perfect with your outfit," Kurt eyes the content of his wardrobe critically.

Because of a misunderstanding, Jeff waits for Nick in his room and Nick waits for Jeff in Kurt's room. But the three of them get to the bus just as Wes is about to call them and yell at their late asses. Kurt sags down in one of the first seats, not bothering to find someone to sit next to for the ride. It's only about 15 minutes away anyway.

Nick and Jeff pull Kurt hurriedly in the right direction with no chance to take in the surroundings in the darkness. The party location, however, Kurt can study. They leave their coats on two portable clothes racks. The building is nothing but a big room, looking like a mix of a barn, storage and gym. Kurt guesses the room is usually empty, but furnished and decorated appropriately whenever they need it. A raised stage takes up a fairly large amount of the room, with an intricate scaffold, and Kurt assumes it'll function as their stands for the performance. A small piano is placed on the stage by the Warbler Council's request, and a decent looking stereo with speakers are placed on the other end. Along one side of the room is a long snack table, and a refrigerator is filled with mineral water.

There's not much light in the room, and Kurt doesn't know if it looks gloomy or romantic. Candles are lit in all the window sills, looking like the living room of The Addams Family. Although, the heart shaped helium balloons under the ceiling is a nice touch. He really would have expected girls to decorate more elaborated than this for a Valentine's party, but at the same time it's kind of a relief. It doesn't mean the romance and couply-couply expectations will be shoved in his face, and he can treat it as a regular party.

Because Kurt Hummel has such vast experience with parties, he snorts inwardly.

He notices the lack of chairs, so they'll have to stand all night. He's glad he decided not to wear some of his high healed boots, then. The bus leaves at midnight, in five hours, so it won't be an exaggerated party. It feels a little like being in some kind of puppy class allowed by their owner to run loose in the park and play with the other pups under strict surveillance.

As the host, the captain of the Passerines welcomes them, and the girls take the stage. They're using pre recorded background music, and Kurt notices they've all dressed to impress, with clothes showing skin, shapes and curves. Not so Catholic looking, really. They stand up in a V-formation, with David's girlfriend Sharon in the lead. Flora is far in the back. They're shaking, swirling, twirling and shimmying to the beat.

_I know you like me_, Sharon sings. _I know you like me_, the other girls answer. _I know you do_, she says, and the girls answer with the same sentence.

_That's why whenever I come around, She's all over you, I know you want it, It's easy to see, And in the back of your mind, I know you should be on with me._

So that's how it's going to be, Kurt thinks. That's rather sexy, yes, he admits, as the girls dip and shake what God has granted them.

The girls harmonise through the chorus, and most of the Warblers holler and cheer. Nick and Jeff are kind of dancing with each other, with Kurt standing awkwardly next to them, not quite knowing what to do.

_Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? Don't cha? Don't cha? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me? Don't cha? Don't cha?_

"We're better," Blaine murmurs in his ear, startling him, he didn't know Blaine was around.

"I didn't know it was a contest," Kurt whispers back through one end of his mouth, not leaving his eyes from the stage. He won't disrespect the girls during their performance.

"The Passerines and the Warblers **always** compete," Blaine chuckles, "and we **are** better."

"Cocky much?" Kurt asks, and turns around to stare Blaine down, 'cause it isn't like the boy to be that unabashedly confident and borderline patronizing.

But then air and words leave Kurt in a rush, because Blaine Anderson most certainly knows how to do sexy. He's wearing the deep purple fitted pants from when they went shopping, a dark grey button up, a jet black bowtie with pink piping, and a black leather jacket. He's left his hair almost natural, and Kurt suddenly remembers how good it felt to tangle his fingers in the curls when they were swimming in his place. He obviously hasn't shaved today. The most noticeable thing isn't the clothes hugging and accentuating Blaine's trimmed body. It's his face. He looks so expectant and eager. Performer-Blaine has come out to play! Kurt adores how unapologetically Blaine enjoys the stage, and how ridiculously good he is at it.

In the faded background, Sharon is seducing the boys with the next verse.

_Fight the feeling, Leave it alone, 'Cause if it ain't love, It just ain't enough to leave my happy home, Let's keep it friendly, You have to play fair, See I don't care, But I know she ain't gonna wanna share._

A part of Kurt wonders if he'll ever have a romantic Valentine's Day, or if he's cursed to always be the friend. He knows why Blaine is hesitant, and he does respect it. It's still difficult to accept, though, and Kurt's not always sure how to deal with Blaine, how to behave around him. They seem to go beyond friendly, but what are their limits and rules?

The intro to the next song begins, and both boys look at the other, grinning.

_Where's all mah soul sistas? Lemme hear ya'll flow sistas!_

_Hey sista, go sista, soul sista, flow sista. Hey sista, go sista, soul sista, go sista._

"So, considering you speak French. Do they really ask…"

"Yeah, they do."

"Good to know…"

"Why? Are you gonna take them up on their offer?" Kurt jokes.

"No, I think I'm pretty happy with what I have here," Blaine says charmingly, and every single intestine in Kurt's stomach is practicing for the world championship in gymnastics. Can anyone blame him for being confused?

Most of the Warblers are moving to the songs by now. Both Jeff and Nick and Wes and David have paired up.

_He met Marmalade down in old Moulin Rouge. Struttin' her stuff on the street. She said, 'Hello, hey Jo, you wanna give it a go?'_

"Will you dance with me?" Kurt asks, acting a lot bolder than he really feels. But it would be nice to get to dance with Blaine now, and not let their performance on stage be the first touch today. Kurt thinks he might explode from the electricity running in his veins, and he wouldn't want to screw up the performance. Yup, he's purely thinking about the performance.

"Of course," Blaine smiles sincerely, and they spend the next 20 seconds doing the awkward where-do-we-put-our-hands-dance.

_Giuchie, Giuchie, ya ya dada. Giuchie, Giuchie, ya ya here. Mocha Chocalata ya ya. Creole lady Marmalade._

Nick and Jeff are grinding and dancing quite risqué behind them, and when Nick walks Jeff backwards, the latter bumps into Kurt, making him stumble into Blaine's body. Kurt could bet his delicious new shoes it was intentionally, but he's not sure he can complain when he finds himself with Blaine's supporting hand firmly on his hip and one of his own hands around Blaine's neck. Their other hand is hanging free down along their side, making it feel less intimate and intimidating. They're moving closely to the music, letting the egging beat guide them through the motions.

"You look amazing," Blaine drawls, his breath tickling against Kurt's skin.

_Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir? Voulez vous coucher avec moi?_

The song is enveloping Kurt, and it almost makes him feel sexy. The way Blaine looks at him doesn't hurt either. It makes him feel so much. He thinks he can go to that stage now, and perform sexiness convincingly and seductively.

_Giuchie, Giuchie, ya ya dada. Giuchie, Giuchie, ya ya here. Mocha Choca lata ya ya. Creole lady Marmalade._

Kurt can understand the straight appeal, because the girls are really killing this song, and have the looks, the moves and the attitude to pull it off.

All too soon Sharon thanks the Warblers for listening, and invites them on stage.

David gives Sharon a heated kiss when they pass each other; one choir leaving and another choir entering the scene.

14 Warblers are lined up on two sides of the temporary scene, and Wes climbs up on it alone.

"Thank you so much for inviting us, and giving us a chance to perform for such a lovely audience. It can hardly hold a candle to what you gave us, but we'll do our best," he smiles flirtatiously, and Kurt can see why Rachel swoons over this guy. He's smooth, but honest.

Blaine is standing in front of Kurt, rolling on his feet, probably last minute-jitters for his solo. Kurt lays his hands to rest on Blaine's shoulder blades, willing some comfort to simmer through the thick leather of his jacket. The other boy leans into his touch, and Kurt feels he's accomplished something.

* * *

Blaine is about to turn his head to thank Kurt, when Wes introduces him and he has to jump to action.

He takes a deep breath, clears his voice discreetly, and waves to the girls cheering for him as he sits down by the piano. He doesn't understand why he's so nervous tonight. He usually loves to perform. It can be a bit embarrassing to sing and dance in front of only one or two persons, but as soon as there's a crowd, an audience, he loves it. But today the bugs in his stomach are more like grey moths than colourful butterflies.

OK, so he wants Kurt to have a nice evening, and he knows the boy isn't used to romance or any special attention on Valentine's Day. So Blaine has kind of made it his mission to make this memorable for the boy. And Blaine is used to express himself through music, but he doesn't know if this music lets him express what he really wants to say. It feels a bit… forced and rushed and awkward.

His fingers play the intro to the slowed down rock song by themselves, and he's so lost in his own thoughts he has to play the intro once more to start singing in the right place.

He likes flirty and playful and cuddly and funny. But sexy? That's so… mature and grown-up and serious and way down the road. Blaine doesn't feel sexy. Blaine isn't ready for sexy. So here goes nothing.

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, Come on sugar let me know. If you really need me just reach out and touch me, Come on honey tell me so._

He knows he sounds more pleading and needy than tempting and seductive, but it's the way it has to be, he isn't able to be more convincing than this, he thinks. And is it so bad to want? Is it so bad to need reassurances? Is it so bad to want to be needed?

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, Come on honey tell me so. If you really need me just reach out and touch me, Come on sugar let me know._

Blaine pours his emotions into the piano and into the microphone. His voice quivers, thinking about how stupid he is. He knows he wants, he knows what he wants, and he's pretty sure Kurt wants the same. He also knows he's confusing Kurt by keeping him on a distance. But he isn't able to reach out and let Kurt know for sure, Blaine is scared; a coward. He wishes he knew how to be brave; to gain bravery. He really, really wants to be Kurt's. But Kurt deserves better, and Blaine isn't there.

He's almost jumping up and down on the piano stool as he dives into the last chorus of what has turned out to be a longing, tender ballade and not aggressively sexy rock.

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, Come on sugar let me know. If you really need me just reach out and touch me, Come on baby let me know, If you want my body…_

Blaine is still panting, sitting by the piano, as his teammates step onto stage while humming and giving life to their next number. Blaine's always loved the song, but he feels exhausted and not ready for the energy this song needs. He catches Kurt's eyes, though, and the way the boy smiles at him is like having one gallon of Red Bull and two big brownies shot straight into his blood.

He not so discreetly runs the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead, takes a deep breath, and jumps up from the piano bench, crooning out the words.

_Sittin' here eatin' my heart out waitin', Waitin' for some lover to call. Dialed about a thousand numbers lately, Almost rang the phone off the wall._

How is it possible that they've managed to select songs merely about longing and loneliness? Haven't the Council listened to the lyrics when their set list was finalized? Is this sexy? Isn't it just sad?

_Lookin' for some hot stuff baby this evenin'. I need some hot stuff baby tonight. I want some hot stuff baby this evenin', Gotta have some hot stuff, Gotta have some love tonight. I need hot stuff, I want some hot stuff, I need some hot stuff._

I don't want some one night stand and random hook up, Blaine thinks. I don't want a fling or something casual, I don't want a quick release. I just want someone who gets me and likes me for me, and I know I've found him, and one day I'm gonna manage to let it happen.

_Lookin' for a lover who needs another, Don't want another night on my own. Wanna share my love with a warm blooded lover, Wanna bring a wild man back home, Gotta have some hot love baby this evenin', I need some hot stuff baby tonight._

He knows he should probably be singing the song to the girls; they are after all both hostesses and the audience. But they probably know he's gay, especially after he took Kurt to the Christmas Ball as his date for the evening. God, he wants him to be his date for the eternity. And his eyes are constantly pulled in the direction of the beautiful boy, who's smiling at him. Blaine shakes his head to clear it, and ploughs through the rest of the song.

David wanted to perform for Sharon, so he's doing the lead on the next song. It gives Blaine a moment to catch his breath before they finish with his and Kurt's duet. It'll be good to act like a music box in the background for the next four-five minutes.

_Spy on me baby use satellite, Infrared to see me move through the night, Aim gonna fire shoot me right, Aim gonna like the way you fight, And I love the way you fight._

Blaine blends in with the other boys, enjoying the opportunity to see his friends shine. Kurt looks questioningly at him, and he just smiles at him. The choreography takes them across the stage, and when Kurt is passing Blaine he quickly slips his hand in Blaine's and squeezes it comfortingly, before letting go and dancing like nothing happened.

_No don't get me wrong ain't gonna do you no harm no, This bomb's made for lovin' and you can shoot it far, I'm your main target come and help me ignite, Love struck holding you tight hold me tight darlin'._

Blaine is happy for his friends getting to sing to their special ones. Several of the Warblers are dating Passerine-girls, and Nick and Jeff are having a bit more fun that choreographed.

_Sexbomb, sexbomb you're a sexbomb, You can give it to me when I need to come along. Sexbomb, sexbomb you're my sexbomb, And baby you can turn me on._

The girls are going crazy, and David is grinning like crazy. Somebody will be rewarded later…

Wes introduces Blaine and Kurt as lead singers on their last number, and Kurt steps up next to him. They get into position, while the 13 other boys comply the beat. Kurt is standing half turned away from Blaine, his chin resting on his thumb and index finger, elbow tucked into the arm wrapped over his stomach. He's tilted his hip, and looks nonchalant, almost bored. He's sexy.

Blaine adjusts the collar of his jacket, side stepping confidently on the same space, grinning at the audience who's beginning to realize which song it is, and he's just waiting for their cue.

_Am I throwing you off?_ Kurt asks over his shoulder.

_Nope_, Blaine answers without hesitation, using the lower register of his voice.

_Didn't think so_, Kurt shrugs, but winks, poking his tongue slightly out through his teeth.

Blaine struts with a sway in his steps towards Kurt as he raps.

_How you doin' young man? That feelin' that you givin' really drives me crazy. You don't have to play about the joke. I was at a loss of words first time that we spoke_

_You're looking for a boy that'll treat you right. You lookin' for him in the daytime with the light_, Kurt answers, and his rapping is flawless. He's teasing with some of his lower register as well, as he walks slowly backwards away from Blaine.

_You might be the type if I play my cards right, I'll find out by the end of the night_, Blaine parries, following his steps, adding some swaying to his hips, he's trying to seduce the boy, after all.

_You expect me to just let you hit it. But will you still respect me if you get it?_ Kurt asks, and he looks so sassy and witty Blaine just wants to whimper. And then Kurt drapes himself along Nick, back to his chest, sliding down to his feet while looking challengingly at Blaine. If he didn't know how disgustingly happy the boy was with Jeff, Blaine would be disturbingly jealous.

_All I can do is try, gimme one chance. What's the problem I don't see no ring on your hand?_ Blaine does the same hand movement he's seen Kurt do in the Single Ladies-dance. He hasn't done that during rehearsal before, and he can see Kurt biting his lip to prevent laughing.

_I be the first to admit it, I'm curious about you, you seem so innocent_, and wow, wasn't that almost exactly what Blaine thought the first time he met Kurt?

Kurt steps away from Nick, sides up to David, and hugs him from behind, kissing his cheek, which earns him catcalls from Sharon. They are both improvising at this moment.

_You wanna get in my world, get lost in it. Boy I'm tired of running, lets walk for a minute_, Kurt almost rolls his eyes, and struts sexily towards Blaine.

_Promiscuous boy, Wherever you are, I'm all alone, And it's you that I want_, Blaine sings, dropping to his knees and leaning backwards as far as he can, which is hardly anything at all compared to how Kurt danced in his room two weeks ago.

_Promiscuous boy, You already know, That I'm all yours, What you waiting for?_ Kurt sings, placing one of his feet on Blaine's chest, gently pushing him slightly more backwards. The stretch in his thighs is delightfully painful, in contrast to the dull ache in his heart as the words hit him a bit too close.

Kurt steps away, and Blaine fairly elegantly jumps back on his feet.

_Roses are red, Some diamonds are blue, Chivalry is dead, But you're still kinda cute_, Kurt smiles genuinely, standing close and running his index finger down his chest.

_Hey! I can't keep my mind off you, Where you at, do you mind if I come through?_ Blaine jogs after Kurt who's literally throwing himself at Jeff.

_I'm out of this world come with me to my planet, Get you on my level do you think that you can handle it?_ Kurt peaks up from behind Wes.

He disappears again, sliding from Warbler to Warbler, running his hand around their necks and smiling teasingly, all the while blatantly ignoring Blaine. Blaine can't help but grin, and shakes his booty to the rhythm, waiting for Kurt to come close enough for him to catch him.

_I'm a big boy I can handle myself, But if I get lonely I'ma need your help, Pay attention to me I don't talk for my health_, Kurt sings.

_Promiscuous boy, You're teasing me, You know what I want, And I got what you need_, Blaine insists, stalking Kurt across the stage.

_Promiscuous boy, Let's get to the point, Cause we're on a roll, Are you ready?_ Kurt steps up to Blaine, resting one hand on his hip and the other over his heart.

_Don't be mad, don't get mean_, Blaine growls, taking Kurt by the hips and pulls him firmly closer.

_Don't get mad, don't be mean_, Kurt manages to rap with snark and sass, ripping himself away from Blaine and swaying over to Thad.

_Wait! I don't mean no harm, I can see you with my t-shirt on_, Blaine says, making Kurt freeze and do an abrupt 180.

_I can see you with nothing on, feeling on me before you bring that on_, he teases, and Blaine fears he's about to get hard on stage for the first time in his life. It's never been a goal of his.

_Bring that on_, he more moans than anything else.

_I'm only trying to get inside your brain, To see if you can work me the way you say_, Kurt walks slowly towards Blaine.

_It's OK, it's alright, I got something that you gonna like_, Blaine repeatedly pops his hip in Kurt's direction.

_Promiscuous Boy, Wherever you are, I'm all alone, And its you that I want_, Blaine grabs him by the tie, yanking him so close he can feel Kurt's exhales against his own skin.

_Promiscuous Boy, I'm calling your name, But you're driving me crazy, The way you're making me wait_, Kurt says, lifting finger by finger to remove Blaine's hand from his tie.

Kurt turns around to leave, but Blaine catches the suspender hanging down one of his thighs.

_Promiscuous Boy, You're teasing me, You know what I want, And I got what you need!_

Kurt lets himself be caught, and laces his arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, and they dance together as Kurt sings the last line.

_Promiscuous Boy, We're one in the same, So we don't gotta play games no more._

The girls applaud and whistle like crazies, and somehow Kurt and Blaine end up in the bottom of one of the epic Dalton Warbler Human Piles.

The Passerines have prepared a music list appropriate for the theme of their party. Kurt and Blaine spend most of the night dancing and having fun.

* * *

Although it wasn't a date, Kurt still considers the Passerine-Party the best Valentine's Celebration he's ever had. The duet with Blaine ended much better than expected; they had a lot of fun, it wasn't as awkward as he feared, and the girls really made them feel appreciated – even those who offered Blaine their numbers, but they really couldn't have the best clues. Blaine and he had danced a lot during the night, although it hadn't been much else to do with the lack of sitting options. But they'd also spent time talking; resting against a wall and standing in the other's personal space, but it had felt both safe and natural. Kurt feels as if they came closer during the night, and maybe it's inevitable after discussing a wide range of topics as their stance on euthanasia, favourite super hero, dream vacation and proposition 8.

But it really hadn't been a **romantic** night, and Kurt may be a hopeless case, but he really believes that Valentine's Day should be all about romance.

That's why he already on Sunday approached the Council with his suggestion. They had agreed – luckily, as he'd already talked with Rachel and Mercedes to get the wheels in motion. With Valentine's Day already on Wednesday it didn't leave them the best of time to plan, but they'd pull it through.

And today is Wednesday, and Kurt can't help the butterflies of expectations stretching their wings in his stomach as he stretches his body and rubs the last traces of sleep from his eyes.

He swings his legs out of bed, and senses something's different in his room. He turns on the light to see better, and quickly scans his surroundings to see what's off. And then he spots his desk. There's something on the surface he's pretty confident he didn't leave there last night.

Curiously, he jumps out of bed and strides with a few long steps over to his work station. There he finds an envelope, a small square gift and a single long-stemmed gorgeous, grand red rose wrapped in transparent foil and a rich purple ribbon. Kurt reigns in his emotions until he reads the two simple words on the envelope: _To Kurt_

That's all it takes for him to squeal with delight, hugging himself and jumping around in the room like a maniac. He's **never** gotten anything for Valentine's Day, and this is just so romantic he can hardly breathe. He stops dead in his happy-dance, and pinches his thigh fiercely. Gods, that hurts! Kurt jumps and throws his fist triumphantly in the air (fully aware that **nobody** can see him this undignified), because he's awake and this is really happening.

He calms himself, making his pulse and crazy hands slow down to a more secure pace, and releases the beautiful flower from its wrapping. Obviously he hasn't got a vase in his room, so his water glass will have to do. He places it on the shelf, making sure the rose is supported against the wall so it won't tilt out of the glass.

He then picks up the gift and the envelope, bringing it to bed, where he gets comfortable under the covers. This winter morning is too cold to run around in pyjamas. He decides to open the envelope first, hoping it'll reveal the gift giver to be the only one he wants it to be.

The card is classic and elegant, without any bad word puns. It's also fairly neutral, with no traces of hearts or love or kisses or doves. On a pretty, graphic background is written in hot pink letters

_To Someone Very Special_

Kurt opens the card, and his heart stutters when he reads the words.

_Dearest Kurt_

_The Ice Crystal symbolises uniqueness, individuality,  
__perfection, serenity, peace, tranquillity and purity.  
__In my eyes, you're an Ice Crystal._

_Blaine_

Kurt can't help the tear that trickles down his cheek, and his hand is shaking when he reaches for the gift. Carefully to not tear the paper, he opens it, gently picking on the scotch with his nail. Finally he manages to unwrap the thick metallic gold paper, to find a characteristic black box, and he doesn't need to recognize the logo on the lid to know this is jewellery.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, wondering what on earth his something-more-than-merely-a-friend has done.

Well, there really is only one way to find that out, so he quickly opens the lid, and almost drops the box in his lap.

There, nestling on deep blue velvet, is the most beautiful brooch. Kurt quickly decides it's the best gift he's ever received, and nobody can ever top this. It's the Georg Jensen Ice Crystal brooch in white gold, and Kurt carefully runs a finger along the edges, afraid to leave ugly finger marks on it.

Uniform regulations be damned – Kurt is so going to wear this all day!

Blaine isn't in his room, and Kurt is disappointed, because he'd want to thank him thoroughly, and he'd expected him to be around to gauche Kurt's reaction. But Kurt gets dressed in a rush, pinning the brooch to the lapel of his blazer, and hurries to the dining hall, hoping to catch him there before classes.

Blaine is already sitting by their usual table with the usual gang, and Kurt doesn't care. He walks purposefully straight up to the table, taps Blaine on the shoulder, motions for him to move at his questioningly look, and attacks him with a firm hug as soon as Blaine is up. Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, and Kurt whispers in his air.

"Brittany once told me I'm a unicorn. I much prefer being an ice crystal! I don't know how to say thank you properly. But you're also someone very special," he murmurs, and Blaine tightens his hold around him.

"I just… Thank you for having patience with me. And thank you for being you."

Kurt swallows heavily, and regrets not even considering getting Blaine something.

"Of course," he answers, as they let go of each other.

Blaine adjusts the lapel, just like he did the first time they met, smiles shyly at him and runs a thumb over the brooch.

"I've picked up breakfast for you," he says, and pulls out a chair for him.

Kurt is pretty sure he looks like some love sick teenager when he sits down. But he kind of is a love sick teenager, so…

Wes and David look oddly at Blaine, but smiles at Kurt. Jeff just grins at them, humming _Teenage Dream_, but Nick quickly spots the brooch.

"That is one very fine brooch," he comments.

"It **is** one very fine brooch," Kurt replies haughtily, but under the table he wraps his foot around Blaine's.

The rest of the day is pretty ordinary; not so many romantic options or inclinations in an all boys school. Nick and Jeff are all giddy and goofing around, and Kurt feels a stab of jealousy that they have each other. But then he sees the brooch from the corner of his eye, and he decides that this is quite a decent Valentine's Day after all.

After the last class, the Warblers hurry out to the parking lot, to car pool. To save time, and because they are performing as Dalton boys, they're still in uniforms. Five cars take them the two hours from Westerville to Lima, and two minutes before five they arrive at Breadstix.

Kurt has hardly crossed the threshold, before he's ambushed by New Directions, engulfing him in hugs and greetings.

The restaurant staff has prepared a stage with sound equipment. Every table is decorated with a single rose – far from as stunning as the one Kurt got - and lit candles. Pink balloons and streamers have been hung not so thoughtfully on the walls, and it pretty much looks like they spent about ten minutes to make the room seem more romantic than usual. But that's okay. Kurt gets to spend the evening with all of his friends, that's pretty amazing in itself.

His oldest friends take their seats, and the Warblers get in position on the stage. As it was Kurt's idea, he takes the role as the host. He does a quick test of the microphone before giving his short speech.

"So, happy Valentine's Day, everybody. For those Breadstix patrons who don't know me, I'm Kurt Hummel," he greets, and there are mostly his friends and some other McKinley-students he faintly recognizes in the restaurant, still too early for the wining and dining to truly commence. "Welcome to my first ever lonely hearts club dinner. Whether you're single with hope or madly in love and are here because I forced you to come out and support me; sit back and enjoy. And to all the singles out there: This is our year."

Kurt leaves the microphone and steps back to his place among the boys, and Blaine smiles softly at him. Kurt can't help but smile back, almost forgetting to join in when the background harmonizing begins.

"_You'd think that people would've had enough of silly love songs. But I look around me and see it isn't so_," Blaine sings.

The crowd loves it!

"_Love doesn't come in a minute_," Blaine sings, and Kurt knows, trying to be as patient as Blaine needs him to be.

"_I love you!_" Blaine's velvet voice floats through Kurt's ears, and for a moment their eyes meet, and they smile. Kurt thinks he's on his way to feel that way about the boy, and hopes that he one day will be able to let it all out.

They walk around the room, sharing their love and music, to the pure joy of New Directions. Kurt forms a heart with his fingers at Mercedes and Tina.

While Blaine had really wanted to sing the first song, Kurt had been the one to suggest their second number. The Council had been hesitant, but Kurt had demonstrated it was well within his range.

They're standing in three rows, with Kurt and Blaine in the middle. Everybody is holding hands, and that's the entire choreography for this song. Thad is holding his hand on his left side, and on his right side is Blaine. But he has laced their fingers together.

_In daylights, in sunsets, In midnights, in cups of coffee, In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife, In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, How do you measure, a year in the life?_

_How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love_

Kurt's proud to sing Joanne' solo:

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. Five hundred twenty-five thousand journeys to plan. Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?_

Blaine takes Collins' solo:

_In truths that she learned, Or in times that he cried, In bridges he burned, Or the way that she died._

_Measure your life, measure you life in love!_

They are all on an epic performance high when they finish their song, and when Blaine spontaneously wraps Kurt in a hug he almost jumps up. Blaine lifts him from the ground and twirls him around, beaming.

"You. Are. Amazing!" he gushes, before letting him down on the ground again.

They slide into a booth with Nick and Jeff, and look expectantly at Kurt's friends getting ready to perform. The stage is behind Kurt and Blaine, so they turn to get a better view. Blaine ends up sitting leaned against the wall, Kurt with his back to him. Blaine's arm is resting on the top of their seats, and it feels almost like sitting in his arm. Kurt places his arm in the same position, and Blaine runs his fingers slowly along Kurt's elbow. He can hardly feel it through the blazer, but just knowing he does it still makes it tingle.

Kurt snorts when he realizes which song his friends are about to perform. Apparently, New Directions have chosen to do a rerun of one of their numbers from their first year, and Kurt can practically hear Rachel insisting they need their precious time to prepare for Regionals.

"_Caaaaaaaan anybody find me somebody to love?_" Finn asks.

Kurt's head is bopping to the beat, soundlessly mouthing the words, and tapping his foot on the floor.

"You've performed this with them, haven't you?" Blaine whispers softly in his ear.

"Invitationals two years ago," Kurt leans back to reply.

Blaine wraps his other arm around Kurt's waist to hold him back, and continues to whisper.

"I can hear where your voice is missing in their arrangement. They really lack something now that they don't have you," he says, and he doesn't let go of Kurt when he's done talking.

Kurt's heart is beating so hard he thinks it's trying to accompany the performance. Not only is he sitting this close with Blaine, but it happens in public despite of how hesitant and afraid the boy is. Blaine is still taking steps to try and to improve. To Kurt, that's a greater gift than the gorgeous brooch.

New Directions get ready for their second song, and this one Kurt actually hasn't heard them perform before, so maybe they did do some original preparations.

_The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes, And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave, To the dark and the endless skies, my love, To the dark and the endless skies._

Shortly after, the two Glee clubs have spread out and occupied most of the tables in the restaurant, and the waitresses are busy taking orders.

"We can go sit somewhere else," Kurt offers Nick and Jeff, "if you'd like this to be a private date."

The two boys look at each other, smiling fondly.

"Thank you, Kurt, but that's OK," Nick answers. "We've never been too concerned with Valentine's Day. There are 364 other days in the year to celebrate our love."

"Aww, that's adorable!"

"Guys, can I sit here? I got dumped," David grumbles from the end of the table.

"Sure, sit down," Kurt pats the seat next to him, and scoots closer to Blaine to give David space. His thigh is pressed flushed against Blaine's, and he can even feel his muscles tense and move when he shifts in his seat.

"Who dumped you?" Jeff asks.

"Wes," David mutters, and nods at a table in the back of the restaurant.

There, Wes is sitting holding hands on the table with no other than Rachel.

Kurt turns towards Blaine and grins.

"Told you!"

The waitress brings them their food, and Blaine and Kurt's arms keep brushing against each other as they eat. Kurt thinks his cheeks are about to catch fire from how much he blushes, and he keeps emptying glasses of ice water hoping it'll cool down his facial fever. Blaine finishes his food first, and leans further against the back rest, his hand lying along the top of it. Again, Kurt feels as if he's curled up in the pit of Blaine's arm. Not that he objects.

When the waitress comes to take their plates, Blaine orders cheesecake and two forks.

"You're going to split it with me," he says nonchalantly, making the other boys by the table coo and aww.

"No, I'm not," Kurt replies, and the three boys boo. "It's a Wednesday. I don't splurge like that in the middle of the week."

"It's not Wednesday," Blaine objects.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's Wednesday," Kurt snorts.

"It's Valentine's Day, and I want to share some cake with my best friend," Blaine murmurs with pleading eyes, brushing his thumb over Kurt's new brooch.

And how can Kurt object to such a request?

The waitress returns, and when Kurt sinks the fork into the fluffy cake, David sneezes something resembling "whipped".

"Says the Council member who had to beg his girlfriend to be allowed to perform with his minions today," Kurt says airily.

Nick leans over the table, offering Kurt his hand high in the air, and Kurt slams his own against it.

The rest of the evening is spent catching up with his old friends, teasing Rachel and Wes about their relationship, and hide in a secluded corner for some much needed lady chats with Mercedes and Tina. They admire his brooch, but he decides to let them think he bought it himself. They wouldn't understand what Blaine and he is doing.

* * *

**Lyrics from**

Fatboy Slim – _Praise You_

Pussycat Dolls – _Don't Cha_

Christina Aguilera featuring P!nk, Mya, Lil' Kim & Missy Elliot – _Lady Marmalade_

Rod Stewart – _Do Ya Think I'm Sexy_ (as performed by Darren Criss)

Donna Summer – _Hot Stuff_

Tom Jones – _Sex Bomb_

Nelly Furtado featuring Timbaland – _Promiscuous_

Paul McCartney & Wings – _Silly Love Songs_

RENT – _Seasons of Love_

Queen – _Somebody to Love_

Leona Lewis – _First Time Ever I Saw Your Face_


	37. Brother Where Art Thou

**You baffle me with your awesomeness - I love your reviews, and to see the numbers for followers and those favouriting this still increasing is a pure gift!**

**I'm so sorry for my yet again late update, but my exam is coming up on March 1st, so I've been and still am all kinds of focused on it. But I had a quiet day today to avoid going crazy, and decided to splurge you with a brand new chapter. It's written pretty fast and not as thoroughly edited as I usually do, so please forgive me for any mistakes - I'm not native English speaking, remember.**

**There is mentioning of cutting in this chapter, if that's something that is an issue for you. No graphic description, just thoughts about doing it.**

**And as you may realize, this chapter is probably the heaviest I've ever written for this story, but I hope you'll appreciate it anyway. I don't intend to drag _Victorious_ to a dark place, but this needed to be done.**

**Oh, and I'm still not up to date on Glee season 4, so please let our communication be spoiler free, thank you kind people!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

* * *

Kurt is still on a Valentine high when he navigates the Navigator towards Lima for the weekend. It's the most amazing Valentine's Day he's ever had, and he thinks he'll dare to call it perfect – ironically enough, as he's always imagined a perfect Valentine's Day at least being in a relationship. But he can't but love the words and broche from Blaine, feeling it's an admission and them stepping closer to _something_.

He'll allow himself to grin like a madman until he's closer to Lima, but then he'll have to wipe it off his face before facing his family. He so doesn't want to talk about this with them, and he's sure his dad can read him like an open book.

Luckily, almost two hours of intensely selfish mental rambling, he's digested most of it, and has even found some more innocent topics of conversation and stories from Dalton to share. He hasn't told them about the vicious cycle of pranks, for instance.

* * *

Carole has as usual prepared a delicious dinner for the family, and they're about to dig in on the frozen yoghurt for dessert.

"Kids, Carole and I have something we'd like to discuss with you," Burt says calmly, leaning back in his chair.

"Are you pregnant?" Finn blurts out, looking sceptically at his mom. Carole laughs and shakes her head.

"No, sweetie, but good to know how you'd feel about a little sister or brother," she teases him.

"I already have a little brother," he grins, wrapping an arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"Seriously, Finn, I can't be born before you and still remain in the position as little brother," Kurt gently scolds. "Dad, what is the news?"

"Kurt," Burt says, reaching across the table to take his son's hand in his. "I love you more than life, and I hate how McKinley was for you. I'm so relieved we found Dalton. But not everybody have a place like that to take a breather. I want to do something to help other kids being bullied in school," he explains, all in one breath, and smiles warmly at his son. Carole has wrapped an arm around Burt's shoulders, and offered the other hand to Finn.

"So, are you going to be a teacher?" Kurt asks curiously.

"You're not gonna take Glee club from Mr. Schue, are you? 'Cause he helps a lot," Finn says warily.

"No," Burt laughs, "I'm not gonna work at McKinley. I was hoping to be able to do my fair share for more than just one school. That is if you're all up for it."

Kurt stares blankly at his dad, not having the faintest idea what he may be suggesting.

"Kids… What'd you think about me running for Congress?"

* * *

The initial response is encouraging, supportive, but hesitant. Neither Finn nor Kurt can really imagine what it means, in reality, to run for Congress. So Burt and Carole explain it as thorough as possible, what it'll mean for the family. The campaign work, the election system, how much work and travel is expected if Burt wins, how it'll affect the family, how they'll solve the problems, what'll happen to the garage.

"I'm 110 per cent behind Burt in this," Carole reassures the teenagers.

"I'm still not sure I understand why, though," Kurt admits after more than an hour of political conversation. He's even powered up his laptop to skim public information sites for more facts.

"Kurt, you've said it yourself. You're the only out gay kid at McKinley. The only one _out_. There are probably other kids there who don't dare to be themselves, no matter if they're queer as a three dollar bill or secretly collect ladybugs. I want to do something about that. I know how good that Glee club was for you, and we both now that extracurricular activities are the first to be cut when the schools struggle financially."

Burt takes a deep breath before he continues.

"You know I read up and down the anti bullying policy at Dalton. It's admirable, and it's possible because it's a private school. I'd like to see something like that in public schools to. I want to improve high schools in all of Ohio. Hell, I'll change the entire United States if given the chance," Burt grins.

"So, basically, you're running your candidature on more money to the school sector and an anti bullying agenda."

"Yeah." Burt looks him sternly in the eyes, smiling confidently.

Carole and Finn keep out of the conversation for now. This is a Hummel talk.

"You think it can work?"

"Most voters have a teenager in high school in their closest circle. And I've been digging through statistics. One out of five high schoolers is bullied."

"I want a written approval from your doctor he'll allow this with regards to your heart, and gives you the thumbs up," Kurt says sternly.

"I already anticipated this," Burt smiles fondly, presenting a folded paper from his pocket.

Kurt quickly reads it.

"Well, sign me up as campaign leader," Kurt grins, offering his hand to shake with his father.

"Oh, I think we can do better than that," Burt smiles relaxed, but jumps eagerly up from his chair and invites his son in a tender hug. The other half of the family quickly joins, and all four of them are embraced in a big huddle in the middle of the kitchen floor.

* * *

Kurt's been off for coffee with Flora again. He can't quite understand the girl. She didn't talk about anything monumental today, or the last few times they've met up. They simply chat about music, clothes, movies and other generic topics. She avoids Lana as a subject at all costs, and Kurt doesn't feel comfortable tricking anything out of her. So he just sits there, engaging in their pleasant conversation, and wondering why she's sought out _him_ of all people as a new friend. He doesn't mind, not at all. He's just curious. Hopefully he'll find out one day. He'd be honoured to earn her trust.

While they sat in the coffee shop, it started snowing heavily, so they quickly separated to go back to their respective schools. It's not that far from the parking lot to the dormitories, but it's still enough to be drenched in big, wet snow flakes.

As requested, Kurt goes right to Blaine's room. He even left his books there before meeting Flora, so they can cram together for their upcoming history test. The boy is on the phone, however, and Kurt acts to leave, but Blaine signals for him to stay.

"A new part, Coop? That's great, tell me all about it!" he says enthusiastically, and waves with his fingers at Kurt.

Kurt peals off his soaked coat with difficulty, depositing it on a hanger in the shower cabinet to dry. He gets out of his luckily water proof boots and sits down next to Blaine in his bed, legs curled up like a pretzel.

"Wait, what, you said how many lines?" Blaine asks eagerly, and unfolds a thick blanket to cover them both. He smiles at Kurt, and runs his fingers through the boy's ruined hair, releasing quite an amount of snow from it. He shakes it off of his hand to the floor, and Kurt rolls his eyes at him, tutting disapprovingly.

"No, it's just a friend looking like a snowman exploded on him, and objecting to how I try to save him from hypothermia."

Blaine makes sure the blanket is covering Kurt from shoulders to toes, and cups his cold cheeks with his warm hands, holding the phone between his shoulder and chin. Kurt can't help but stare at him, and he's pretty sure he's making heart eyes, but is this boy for real?

"His name is Kurt," Blaine says, and then a short pause as Cooper answers. "Yeah, well, how many Kurt do you think I know?" Blaine snorts, but he's blushing. Cooper continues to talk, but Kurt can't hear anything with the phone firmly tucked between shoulder and ear. Not that he's eavesdropping, but he's sitting next to Blaine, after all. Whatever Cooper says, it makes Blaine both blush and roll his eyes.

"Break a leg when you start shooting your big movie," he eventually smiles, and hangs up.

"That was my brother telling me he's going to be a star," Blaine says, dropping his hands from Kurt's face.

Kurt instantly misses them.

"I though he already claims to be a star?"

"He's modest these days."

* * *

Blaine is a man of his words, and that's why next weekend finds him and Kurt back in the pool in his father's house in Columbus. They have time for a work out Friday late afternoon and Saturday morning, before having brunch with said father. In just a few hours their friends will be arriving for a guys' night in Blaine's swanky "bachelor pad".

Kurt is slowly making progress with the swimming, but still is hesitant to just let loose, trust the water to carry him, and relax in the swimming strokes. Blaine hasn't even showed him the frog leg-kicks yet either, but focusing on helping Kurt feeling comfortable and safe in the liquid element.

Since their last work out, Kurt's purchased a pair of quite stylish swimming shorts. It may help him gain some of the confidence he needs, but he still feels half naked, exposed, and on shaky grounds.

Blaine had asked when Kurt's deadline was, and as far as Kurt knows, it'll be sufficient if he can show Mr. Andrews he can do the laps by the end of the semester. But the sooner he can join them in the pool during PE, the better.

Ella the house keeper's made the three males turkey sandwiches with pesto, and they are eating by the posh dining table; silver ware and delicate china in place, and Kurt is beginning to think that every meal in the Anderson household requires a minimum of class and etiquette.

"So, Kurt, I've been awaiting your announcement on when I can expect to hear my son perform."

"We just got the date for our Regionals, sir," Kurt apologizes, feeling annoyed with himself for not noticing the older Anderson immediately. "It'll be in four weeks, on March 23rd."

Blaine's father checks the date on his phone, and seems to write it down in his calendar.

"I'll be back from Washington that Friday, so that's perfect timing. Email the details, and I'll be there. Unless my son has an invitation ready?" he asks, looking pointedly at Blaine.

Blaine shrinks down in his chair, busying himself with taking a big bite of his sandwich. Devon Alexander Anderson's gaze doesn't waver, and eventually Blaine has to swallow the food with some water, and address his father.

"I didn't think you'd be interested," Blaine explains slowly, trying to meet his father's eyes. "You haven't seemed so invested in my… cultural achievements."

"It would be easier to garner any interest, if I had access to any knowledge to spur it," Mr. Anderson calmly replies, and Kurt feels as if he should be somewhere else during this conversation.

"I'm sorry, father," Blaine almost whispers, ducking his head.

"Well, I'm glad we got that out in the open. So Kurt, how are you settling down at Dalton?" he asks, effectively diverting the conversation in a new direction.

* * *

"I just don't understand him," Blaine sighs, sprawled on the couch in his room.

Kurt is kind of madly fond of how Blaine lets go when he's with him. In front of anybody else, he'll sit properly, with a straight back and thoroughly thought positions of his arms and legs. But when they're alone, it's as if he lets go of his strict self-inflicted perfection, and just _is_.

"I really don't know your father, so it's difficult for me to pinpoint what's off…" Kurt trails off, desperately wanting to comfort his distraught looking friend, but not knowing how.

"The last time we were here, he acknowledged my sexuality and actually talked about my future in a gay context. And he still insists on wanting to see me perform. He's never done that before. Me being gay has been a non-issue, and he's focused on my academic achievements, and merely given me a semi-strict lecture about not letting extracurricular activities distract me from what matters."

Blaine sighs, and runs his hands through his hair, sinking even further down in the couch. He grabs one of the pillows, and clutches it against his stomach.

"Maybe he's just finally… trying?"

"Trying to do what? Lull me into some false security; tempt me into his good side, before blowing low? What does he want from me?"

"Maybe he just wants to be your father, Blaine," Kurt says softly, shuffling closer to the other boy. "Maybe he's trying to reach out a hand, but doesn't quite know how to do it."

"Why now? Why this? Why at all? I don't know if I trust him," Blaine exhales, slumping over and awkwardly leaning his head against Kurt's upper arm.

"I don't know, Blaine, maybe you should ask _him_ all these questions?" Kurt suggests, not unkindly.

"Have you met my father?" Blaine scoffs.

"Yes, I actually have," Kurt comments snarkily. "And he doesn't strike me as the most homophobic guy I've ever met. He seems quite accepting of you, at least in front of me. He seems to tolerate me as well, and I tend to raise many a red flag…" Kurt says hesitantly.

Blaine instantly clutches his hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Please. Don't ever talk yourself down like that. Don't let ignorant, stupid people's opinions colour your own impression of yourself. You're amazing and you're true to yourself. Not many people have that to show for."

"And yet you let your father's seemingly good intentions block you like this…"

"It's always easier to be the giver than the recipient of good advice…"

"Don't I know it," Kurt snorts, resting his head on top of Blaine's.

They sit like that for a long time, until somebody knocks on the door. They jump apart quickly fixing their hair in the reflection of the big mirror over the couch, before Blaine opens the door. In tumble Wes, David, Nick and Jeff. The six boys spend the rest of the evening and the better part of the night singing, dancing, playing games, eating junk food, and generally having a blast. They finally fall asleep in various places. Wes and Nick are curled up in each end of the couch, Jeff on the heated floor tiles in the bathroom, and Kurt, David and Blaine in the bed.

* * *

The classroom is airily silent. 25 blazer clad boys are sitting bent over their desks, reading their next assignment for literature. Kurt still isn't quite used to the boys actually reading sincerely, carefully turning the pages and dutifully scribbling notes in their binders. Back at McKinley, a similar classroom would have proved every single high school movie-cliché true, with kids hiding comic magazines in their binders, writing love letters instead of summaries, popping gum or snoring, scribbling hearts and profanities on the desks, throwing notes or texting with their phones.

Kurt can't really say he misses it.

He misses certain people, namely every single member of New Directions. And maybe Mr. Schue and Sue Sylvester. And the choir room.

But he has a lot of good things going on at Dalton too.

He pretends to be stretching his neck, rolling his head slowly from side to side while he takes in the classroom. It isn't longer filled with merely blazer-donning boys; it's filled with friends, acquaintances, familiar faces. Wes and David are sitting in front of him. Nick is sitting next to him, and Jeff behind them – Mrs. Peterson had banned them from sitting next to each other because it interfered on their focus and concentration, and nobody saw reason to suspect it had to do with homophobia. It was merely a teacher helping the classroom to work.

Blaine is sitting in the front, closest to the door. He'd been delayed with school president-business, slipping into the room five minutes late with an apologetic smile to Mrs. Peterson, who nodded acceptingly and continued her teaching seamlessly, no traces of disruption. The interactions at Dalton were simply _smooth_.

So smooth, that if Kurt hadn't been craning his neck to stretch some kinks, he wouldn't have noticed the classroom door being opened, and a young woman with a serious expression beckoning for Blaine to step out. Kurt recognizes her as Miss Moore, the principal's secretary, who Blaine introduced him to at the Christmas Ball when she took attendance.

Kurt smiles at the thought of Blaine the Buzzy Bee, another pressing president matter to handle. It tugs at his heart, though, a nostalgic stab reminding him of everything he has to be grateful for. It isn't that long since he was called out of a classroom by Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury to be told his dad was in the hospital.

He promises himself to make a phone call home later in the evening, before paying attention to _Death of a Salesman _again.

The funny thing is, when Mrs. Peterson dismisses them, Blaine still hasn't come back from class. Kurt looks questioningly at Wes and David while unlocking his phone to see if he has any texts, but nobody knows anything about Blaine.

"I guess I'll just bring his stuff back to his room," Kurt suggests. This was their last class today, so it's Kurt's best bet on where to find the boy, sooner or later.

"See you at rehearsal," Wes bids as they go their separate ways.

* * *

Kurt finds Blaine in his room. An empty suitcase lies open on his bed, and he's staring at his wardrobe, doors wide open and half of its content spread on the floor. Kurt lowers Blaine's leather book bag on his office chair, and carefully approaches the boy who doesn't seem to have noticed him yet, despite his knocking and coughing.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks, with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He stops next to him, and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. Blaine all but falls onto him, and Kurt hurriedly wraps his arms around the shaking boy.

"Oh Blaine…" he coos, and he really wants to tell him everything's going to be fine, but he can't promise that without knowing what's wrong. So he just holds the boy, runs a hand up and down his back, and whispers nonsensical words.

Eventually, Blaine calms down, and Kurt leads him over to his bed, sitting him down on top of the covers. There's not much space for both of them with the suitcase there, so Kurt squats down on the floor in front of Blaine, still holding his hands.

"Cooper," Blaine hiccups, and new tears fall down his cheeks.

Without thinking, Kurt quickly gets up, straddles the other boy's lap, and holds him firmly against himself. Blaine doesn't hesitate either, and wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, pressing him even closer.

"It's okay… I'm here. It's okay…" Kurt repeats like a mantra.

"I… I have to go to LA," Blaine whispers with a cry-roughed voice. "Coop… Hospital… Accident… Don't know…"

Kurt tries to hold back the gasp, but Blaine has to feel how he tenses in his arms. Memories of his own dad's hospital stay rush through his mind, and it's still difficult, even though his father is healthy and considered safe from any danger now.

He looks at the empty suitcase, knowing there are no words he can offer to solve anything for Blaine now.

"How long are you staying?" he murmurs in his ear.

"Don't know. I don't know! Kurt… Coop, he's… I don't know!"

Blaine is working himself up to hysterical, and Kurt holds him steady, not allowing him to panic like this. He continues whispering soothing nonsensicals, rocking Blaine softly back and to like a sad child.

When Blaine seems calmer, Kurt climbs off of his lap, and pulls him up from his bed.

"Go pack your toiletries," he suggests, hoping it's something easier to start with for Blaine than picking from an entire wardrobe.

Blaine sniffs, but shuffles to their bathroom, leaving the door open. Kurt can hear him rummaging through stuff, so at least he's doing something. Good.

If Blaine doesn't know how long they're staying, it would be wise to pack for four or five days, Kurt decides. If they stay any longer, they ought to be able to find somewhere to do laundry. Or they have enough money to buy a new wardrobe without blinking, Kurt sardonically thinks. He peals off his blazer, hanging it daintily over Blaine's office chair, and gets to work.

He has little to go from – he doesn't know where they'll be living or what they'll be doing. How critical is it? Should he think about… a funeral? Kurt quickly shakes his head, deciding he won't go down that path.

No, Blaine needs comfortable clothes. Kurt remembers all the time spent sitting and waiting and pacing and forcing out patience at the hospital. Regular, comfortable outfits. He picks out two pants in bright colours, so they can cheer Blaine up, and he picks out two pants in neutral colours, if the occasion demands more sober outfits. He quickly scans his options, and picks four shirts that'll go with any of the pants, and a couple of short sleeved t-shirts. Some sweater vests, neutral bowties that'll mix with most colours, plus the bowtie he knows Blaine got from Cooper for Christmas. Kurt decides to add a blazer, if for some reason he needs to dress up, but also adds a pair of sweatpants to lounge in. Oh, and the grey knitted cardigan Blaine often uses; Kurt suspects there's a comforting factor to it.

Kurt checks off his mental emergency-list, to see if he's forgotten anything. He tries not to blush or care when he grabs underwear and nightwear for Blaine, and quickly covers them with a couple of scarves. The wind on the west coast can be really harsh, he hears. A pair of extra shoes, and then Blaine should be set.

He joins Blaine in the bathroom, where the boy is still trying to pick his toiletries, and tears are slowly trickling down his cheeks.

"Oh Blaine, honey," Kurt sighs compassionately. He checks the content of Blaine's toilet bag, adds a couple of bottles, and zips it.

He takes Blaine's hand, and escorts him back to the boy's room.

"See if there's something missing," he suggests, pointing at the suitcase. Kurt feels confident all necessities and then some have been packed, but he doesn't want Blaine to feel undermined.

For the next ten minutes, Kurt packs a smaller bag to bring in the cabin. He holds up two books, asking Blaine to pick one. He does the same with DVDs and magazines, adding Blaine's options in the bag with his laptop and iPod. Oh, and the charger. Hell would be loose if Blaine forgot the charger.

Everything has been packed, and the next move is up to Blaine; Kurt's doesn't know anything about his travelling plans.

Blaine tugs at his shirt sleeve, and melts into his embrace. Kurt just holds him for Gods know how long.

Somebody knocks on the door, but Blaine doesn't acknowledge it. If anything, he curls even closer around Kurt's torso. That someone knocks again, but this time opens the door and steps in.

"Son…" a hoarse voice mutters, and Blaine gasps for air, clinging to Kurt.

Kurt meets the eyes of Mr. Anderson over Blaine's shoulder, and the man smiles sadly at him.

"It's okay, Blaine. You have to go, Cooper needs you," he whispers in his ear. "Call me, anytime. I'll always answer."

He runs his hands down Blaine's arms, finding where Blaine's hands are curled in Kurt's shirt on his lower back, and gently pries Blaine's fingers loose. Kurt takes Blaine's coat, holding it so the boy can just slip his arms into the sleeves. Blaine hasn't even changed out of uniform yet, but with Mr. Anderson here there's probably no time for that.

With shaking hands, Blaine buttons the coat, and Kurt dries his still wet tear trails with the back of his hands. Maybe it should be embarrassing or awkward to do this in front of Blaine's father, maybe Kurt should step back and tone it down. But his best friend hurts, and Kurt can't help but leap to action when someone he cares about needs him. Mr. Anderson will just have to deal.

Blaine takes his bag and suitcase, and walks defeated out of his room. He turns around once, and Kurt tries to give him his most encouraging smile.

"Thank you," the older Anderson says softly, quickly patting Kurt's shoulder before following his son.

* * *

Rehearsal isn't as it should be, with the members more focused on Blaine than anything else. Kurt hasn't told anyone but the Council, to explain Blaine's absence, but Dalton isn't a big school, and rumours started flying when someone saw him leaving school grounds with a suitcase.

Wes tries to drill the Warblers through their numbers, but it's clear that he's being more of Blaine's friend than Council member Montgomery at the moment.

In the end, they abandon rehearsal early, and head back to their rooms for homework. Kurt can't concentrate, though, and is staring at his phone, willing it to signal some kind of message from Blaine. He thinks about the three hours of time zone difference, and wonders about visiting hours at the hospital. He wonders if they've landed yet, if they've checked in at any hotel, and if Blaine knows anything more about his brother.

He flips the phone between his fingers with ease as if it was his sai swords, pondering on what to do.

Finally he groans, feeling a tad cheesy, but deciding it needs to be done to remind Blaine he's here for him. Seven letters typed, pushing send, and then all Kurt can hope for is that Blaine will truly be okay.

_Courage_

* * *

Kurt wakes up unusually quickly when his phone disrupts his dreams; maybe because he instantly recognizes it as Blaine's ringtone.

"Hey", he says, hoping it sounds more like a soft greeting than a yawn.

"Hi…" Blaine says, and it's almost impossible to use that short word as a barometer for his mood.

Kurt shakes his brain, trying to find a question which isn't loaded and a possible hazard, considering he knows _nothing_ about Cooper and Blaine's current state of mind.

"Can you talk?" Blaine asks hesitantly.

"Of course," Kurt reassures him.

"I know it's past 2 AM at Dalton, but I just…"

"Always, Blaine. I'm here. Always."

"Okay. Okay, good. Thank you."

Kurt flops the pillows against the wall, and sits up, covers clutched up to his neck. They are still far from warmer spring nights, barely in the month of March.

"He's… Coop… The doctors say it can be critical, but it's too early to know for sure. So for now he is treated as if he _is_ in critical condition." The words rush out of Blaine as if he's practiced them.

"How… What… Is he…"

Kurt can hear Blaine swallow through the line.

"He's been filming for a new movie. It's his biggest part so far, and he's been talking about it as his chance for a big break. And that stupid, pigheaded brother of mine decided to do most of the stunts himself, to prove how cooperative and versatile he is," Blaine clips, as if it's easier to be angry with his brother than mourn his accident.

"Oh… And they let him?"

"They let him," Blaine sighs. "You haven't met him, but he can be incredibly charming and persuasive, but still someone should have stopped him," Blaine says harshly, and Kurt wonders if Blaine's anger might be directed towards the crew behind the movie rather than Cooper.

"What happened?" Kurt asks carefully.

"There's apparently a scene where he's being chased, and has to jump from one roof to another. And the director wanted it shot from ground level, to see him fly the distance. And… I mean, in the movie it'll be a tall building, skyscraper or whatever," Blaine explains, sounding agitated. "But of course on set they used two platforms not more than 20 feet or something, and used this special lens to make it seem further away. They are really proud of their equipment," Blaine snaps, and Kurt wonders what thoughtless bastard was sent from the production team to explain to father and brother what happened to Cooper.

"Blaine, you have to calm down, please breathe slowly for me. Do you have any water you can drink?"

"I do. I'm sorry, I just…" It sounds as if Blaine's deflated, and Kurt can hear him drink.

"No need to apologize. I just don't want you to hurt yourself. Where are you?"

"We're in Coop's apartment. Father gave me his room, and took the couch for himself. We'll stay until… I don't know. I just… I can't do anything…" Blaine sniffs.

"You don't have to do anything but be there for Cooper, Blaine. Let your father deal with the practical stuff; he's the parent. Help him if there is something he says you can do, but otherwise focus on Coop, and on breathing calmly. Can you do that for me?"

"I… Yes. Yes, I can."

"Good," Kurt murmurs. "Do you want to tell me what happened to Cooper?"

"Umm, yeah, I'll try."

"Good. And you don't have to, stop if it's too difficult," Kurt says, even though he thinks Blaine needs to share it with someone.

"Thank you." Blaine's silent for a while, probably sorting through his thoughts and sentences. "He jumped from one platform to the other several times, I think it was nothing more than ten feet between. But he didn't manage the last jump, and fell. He landed on a concrete floor," Blaine says, sniffing.

"Oh Blaine!" Kurt exhales, choking every question about safety net, mattresses and other safety precautions.

"He… Umm, he hit his head badly, and cracked his skull. The doctors say it's a good thing, because without it his brain might have swollen worse and more liquid gathered to add pressure on the brain, I think. Kurt, I don't understand everything they're explaining," Blaine admits, sounding scared.

"It's okay, Blaine, it's okay. You can ask them again tomorrow. They're supposed to talk Human, not only Doctor, so they'll help you tomorrow. It'll be okay."

"They're keeping him in an induced coma, to give his body some rest. They… They're worried about brain damage," Blaine hiccups, and he's sobbing for real now.

"Oh honey… Blaine, you have to breathe properly, come on, listen to me. Breathe in… and out…" Kurt guides him through the motions, listening to him calming down and gaining control of his breathing back.

"That's it, Blaine, you're doing fine."

Blaine still sounds upset and sad, but he seems far away from the panic attack Kurt feared.

"The doctors said something was good – focus on that, focus on what the doctors deem positive. Did they say anything about how long you have to wait?"

"Undetermined," Blaine scoffs.

They listen to each other breathe calmly for a while.

"I'll let you get back to bed. I should try to sleep as well. Would you hate me if I admitted to still be in uniform?"

"I guess I could let it pass for now. But check your suitcase, I believe there are better options for you there," Kurt says, mixing playfulness and comfort.

"Thank you," Blaine says sincerely, with a lot of emotion in his voice. "Thank you for listening, for packing my luggage, for… Thank you for being you, and being here for me."

"Anytime. Call me if you need to talk or need a distraction, whether it's in five minutes or five hours. I'm here."

"You're amazing!"

"What can I say? Good genes and a healthy upbringing."

"Remind me to send a thank you-card to your dad, then."

* * *

The next day, Blaine sends him a couple of texts with updates throughout the day. The first comes right before lunch, but it's probably breakfast hour in LA.

_No real changes over night. Maybe less bruised, but it could be wishful thinking. Blaine_

The text is impersonal and to the point, and Kurt can imagine Blaine sitting on a chair by the hospital bed, trying to stay composed and avoid _feeling_. He wishes he could offer him a chance to speak freely, to say what he really means, to let everything out instead of harbouring it, to get a chance to crumble and allow himself to break down without feeling he's lost face. Kurt actually thinks Blaine would be able to do that in front of him now. Not with his father, and not in front of Cooper while he's in a hospital bed. But he likes to think he can be that safe option for Blaine.

Despite never having met Cooper, it's difficult to focus on classes. Cooper matters to Blaine, Blaine matters to Kurt, so it's inevitable that Cooper matters to Kurt as well.

Right before last class is over, the phone tickles against Kurt's thigh, and even though there are only seven or eight minutes left, he eases the phone out of his pocket to check. And it is Blaine.

_The waiting is killing me. I feel so useless…_

Kurt's eyes dart to the front of the classroom, and the teacher seems sufficiently occupied with his lecture, so Kurt quickly types out an answer under his desk.

_Dad remembers sensing both my voice and presence. Talk with your brother. __Sing to him, hold his hand. Read to him. __Letting him know you're there is the best help you can offer. The rest is up to the doctors._

Kurt wishes he could say something more comforting, be of better help for Blaine. He kind of feels useless too.

_How do you always know what to say? Thank you for calming me down. It's… Well, you know how it is to just sit and wait. May I call you later?_

They are dismissed in the same moment, and Kurt makes a mental note of their homework as he runs out of the room. He's halfway to his car before he's typed out his answer.

_I'll always be here for you, Blaine_

Two hours later he parks his car, just in time for Friday night dinner. But no food before he's hugged his dad for the longest time.

* * *

A never-ending round of Monopoly later – which Burt wins after a legendary economic battle against Finn, Kurt is pierced in front of his vanity for his sloughing skin care regime.

His hands are covered in lotion and wipes when his phone calls and he hurriedly cleans up to answer. He's too late; Blaine's already hung up when he accepts the call. He doesn't hesitate, but calls him back immediately. He hasn't even finished connecting the phone to his hands free when Blaine answers.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine, my hands were all sticky and I had to clean up before I could pick up," Kurt frantically explains, as he places the phone far from the bottles and jars, making sure he won't soil it with anything.

"Umm… What were you doing, Kurt?" Blaine asks, sounding part shy, part amused.

"Taking care of my skin before going to bed. What did you think?"

"Just double checking," Blaine says, and Kurt can hear the slight smile in his voice. Good. Kurt makes it his mission to make Blaine laugh and think about something else than Cooper.

"So, what have you been up to today?" Blaine asks.

"Oh, bought New York Avenue, and then spent too much money on luxury taxes."

"Ouch, I hate it when that happens," Blaine hisses.

* * *

It's the third day Blaine finds himself sitting by Cooper's bed side, trying not to look at all the medical equipment and hospital gadgets. He tries to ignore the IV stuck in a blood vein on his left hand and the pulse metre clamped to his index finger of the same hand. He makes a point of sitting on Cooper's right side, holding that hand. He tries to study Cooper's closed eyes for any movement without paying attention to the tube taped to his mouth, going far down and making Blaine feel queasy. He tries to shut out the sound of the heart monitor. He looks at his pale, lifeless brother, with his face slightly less coloured and swollen today than yesterday and the day before. He tries to ignore the knowledge about the bandage on the back of Coop's head, where the skull cracked open. And he really tries to suppress all the memories flooding his mind and eyes linked to his own hospital stay more than two years ago.

Blaine really doesn't like hospitals.

He's holding Cooper's slightly cold hand, and it's clammy from Blaine's own nervous sweat. He barely registers it. Holding his brother's still hand has become a habit by now, something he does while flipping aimlessly through the pages of a random magazine he bought in the kiosk by the entrance this morning. He holds the hand while texting Kurt. He holds the hand while listening to his iPod with closed eyes, trying to relive happy memories.

Which quickly leads him to think about Kurt. And Kurt had suggested he talk or sing to Cooper.

He really hasn't got anything more to say to his brother; he's been pleading with him to be okay and wake up for the last 48 hours.

So he quickly scans his mental catalogue for some proper music. Or any song that might be slightly appropriate to sing.

Cooper has got eight years old his age, and it's always been a frenemy-tainted relationship between them; Blaine idolizing his cool big brother, but also feeling misunderstood and pushed too hard. He would be so proud and happy whenever Coop offered to teach him some new moves or practice a duet with him – their mash up of _Rio_ and _Hungry Like the Wolf_ had been a true neighbourhood pleaser. But even though Blaine always put his pride in impressing his brother and working hard to show how good he was, Cooper always found something to improve. Eventually it churned enough on their relationship to make Blaine resent Cooper for everything that came easily to him.

It changed, though, when Cooper woke up to a phone call from his father explaining how his baby brother was in the ER after a hate crime during a school dance. He'd been overly tender and patient with Blaine for a long time after that, almost worshipping the ground he covered when he was allowed to try the crutches. But eventually Cooper had decided Blaine was strong enough and again fit to handle his _inputs_ on whatever Blaine decided to do in the cultural department – from his Saturday Night Fever-inspired room to his audition piece for the Warblers. Not to mention every single offer to give him private coaching before Warbler performances, for a family friendly fee.

But despite of Coop's self absorbedness, exaggerated mannerism, firm believe in his perfection, and sometimes patronizing attitude to his little brother's every attempt, he's still Blaine's _brother_. And Blaine loves him dearly, and admires Coop for his flawless self esteem, his ambitious drive and how he just packed up and went to LA to pursue his dreams. It's as if Coop got all the determination, confidence and positive stubbornness of the two brothers, letting Blaine deal with remaining qualities in abundance, like shyness, self-loathing and hesitance.

Maybe Blaine has somewhat idolized his brother, but they are so radically different, and Blaine is more often than not pretty uncomfortable in his own skin, and who better to look at for envy and inspiration than his opposite brother?

And it's not like Coop has been a thoroughly bad brother. They didn't necessarily play much together, with the big age difference. But sometimes Blaine was allowed to join high schooler-Coop and his friends when they took their bikes to the closest deli to buy ice cream during summer break. Coop and the guys would fool around in the parking lot with intricate dance moves which Blaine yearned to copy. And when Blaine tried, and got so dizzy he lost his ice cream on the ground, Coop would jump to action, buy him a big bag of candy, ask one of the blushing girls on the bench to please hold the bag while he helped his little brother to dance, and not give up until Blaine's eight years old legs could do something resembling what the older boys did. He now knows it was a plot to show off to the pretty girls with the short skirts. But even though Cooper put his flirting face on, he never abandoned or ignored Blaine. He'd walk him home in time for dinner, and then head out on his own for a movie or whatever kind of date he'd managed to score during the dance stunts – and when he came back home with an elastic approach to curfews, he'd sneak in to Blaine's room, and they'd watch a Disney movie together and share the rest of the candy.

Straight after high school Cooper bid them their sayonaras (literally), and took the first flight to LA. He'd still call Blaine, at least a couple of times each month, and they managed to maintain a certain bond. When Blaine came out to his parents 13 years old, he made sure to do it one of the weekends Cooper was actually home, and the big brother had hugged him dearly and held him close as Blaine cried in bed while listening to their parents fight downstairs. And a few months later, it didn't take Coop many hours to come back home to Blaine after their mother announced she had packed her things and was moving back to her parents. Their father had been devastated, and the 21 year old Coop had been a rock for a distraught Blaine who obviously blamed himself for the family falling apart like that.

They grew somewhat closer after that. With a mother leaving the States and a father drowning himself in his career, Ella and Cooper were the closest things to family Blaine had, and Ella had to double as a friend too, as Blaine was kind of accepted but not really liked in school, and didn't have any real friends. Blaine's always been shy and hesitant, and trying too hard to be someone the others would want to be with always ended up with him seeming fake and like an overachiever, and people tended to avoid him, feeling they couldn't trust him. They couldn't get close to him, he had this polite barrier around him, and it annoyed a lot of people.

When he came out, he annoyed people even more, and when he woke up in the hospital, Cooper was the first face he saw. Recovery took time, and was spent hauled up in his new, big fancy room, in the pool in the basement, or at various doctors and physiotherapists. Then, one and a half years ago, he came to Dalton, and thankfully he was instantly adopted, immediately met people who took a liking to him. He'd initially decided to stay off the radar, and just focus on surviving high school. He'd planned to stay in the closet, to cultivate an acceptable personality, and reveal as little of himself as possible.

Plans don't always come true, though.

Thankfully.

Nick was one of the first boys he met and talked with. The boy had intrigued him, with his unapologetic fuck you-attitude to everything and anybody. The boy was clearly angry, and Blaine could relate. He too was angry – but he'd taught himself to can it, to keep it in, to direct his anger on himself instead. It was fascinating to see someone being bold enough to let the anger out and demand to not being victimized or guilted for feeling upset. Blaine was also all kinds of jealous, because it was tough always having to channel the anger towards non-risky outlets. He couldn't risk explode in someone's face or draw attention to himself. So he hid it, while looking for a proper valve. He'd considered cutting, after reading a lot of failed coming out-stories online. If it was so helpful for others, maybe it'd make him feel better as well. But he never came further than to sit with the razor blade in his hand, silently asking himself if he didn't already feel enough physical pain with his bad hip, and wondering how added pain could be a relief.

So he locked the anger in, and instead constantly set himself up for failure so he had reasons to yell at himself, punish himself mentally, and push himself to do better the next time. He developed a kind of self-loathing, to avoid being angry and risk drawing attention to himself or upset anyone enough to hate him like in his old high school.

But Nick was so fearless, or careless, and demanded the right to be furious. It drew Blaine to him, and Nick didn't shy off, wasn't afraid of being approached. He'd learned to give as good as he got, and wasn't afraid of the world anymore; he was standing proud and tall with everything, daring anyone to bring it on.

Blaine needed some efforts to find out just how he could approach the boy the way he wanted, but it ended up with Nick giving him the in. One evening early in the semester, several of the boys watched _Easy A_ in the common's room. When Brandon joined the party after pretending to bang Olive, Nick had cursed fiercely and swore that if Brandon didn't get his gay happy ending, he'd personally hunt down every single movie director in Hollywood and impatiently and impolitely explain to them how we were in the 21st century, and wasn't it about god damn time to let go of old mind sets, and stop treating gay like we didn't count, wasn't equal to any other kind of humanity? Nick had passionately and yet easily included himself in the gay community and came out to his Dalton friends just like that.

Blaine knew Nick and Jeff had hooked up shortly after that, because the school was small enough to avoid secrets, if anyone wanted privacy. And now, Nick is much calmer, Jeff managed to tame him somewhat, and they have a loving relationship based on more than quickies. Blaine likes to think he has something to do with Nick's healing too, just as a lot of the Warblers have helped Blaine heal.

After _Easy A_, Blaine mustered enough courage to tell Nick it was really cool what he said, and in rushed words told him he was gay too. Nick grinned, came with a graphic proposition, which Blaine blushingly and stutteringly politely declined, so they went for coffee instead. Because they wanted to be grown ups instead of stupid, insecure teenagers, in this world, and Nick said he couldn't wait to be old enough to really tell the world to piss off and do whatever he wanted instead of following other people's expectations. And drinking coffee obviously was a really grown up thing to do. So that day, Blaine drank coffee for the first time, acting a part, pretending not to be a beaten down gay teenager. And after that, the medium drip stuck with him.

They surprisingly quickly opened up to the other, sharing their stories and backgrounds. They bonded over the shared experiences, and they bonded over qualities they admired in the other. Nick was exhausted from always being so defensive, attacking before anyone could touch him, using the anger as a protection. He admired how calm and collected Blaine seemed. While Blaine was exhausted from keeping it all inside, admiring Nick for his careless moments and not letting anyone get to him. They revealed their armour, and found out that naked, they weren't that different after all. They needed an outlet, and had tried different strategies.

Jeff quickly joined their coffee dates, seeing he was the one who knew Nick's physical nakedness as well, and they were bonding in different ways. They didn't know any other out gay at Dalton, so the three of them stuck together, forming an alliance.

One day, Blaine had been gently reprimanding Nick for talking back to a teacher, which ended up with an appointment with the principal. Nick was furious because the teacher had just briefly mentioned the Columbus-branch of Queer Nation, as a local example of how ad hoc-movements and spontaneous gatherings can change policies and society in their political science-class. Blaine argued it was great how the teacher found and used that example at all, while Nick refused to be nothing more than a footnote. Blaine had said he shouldn't take everything so personally, and Nick had parried Blaine should dare to take things personally and not rise above it all like some untouchable God. Blaine had through clenched teeth hissed that he'd been touched far enough so far, thank you very much, and maybe Nick should grow up and realize nobody took a sulking teenager seriously. Nick had shot up from his chair so fast it tumbled backwards, tightening his fists, and his eyes were black when he glared at Blaine. Jeff had leaped to action, held Nick back, and reasoned that they'd both be in serious trouble if they got into a fight at Dalton, and if they really wanted to do this, they'd need to find a very private, very secret place, to continue their childish fight.

Jeff had assumed they'd cool off and move on.

Instead, they founded a secret branch of Dalton Fight Club, who wasn't secret enough to not include new members.

Between the fights, the sex and the talks, Nick became less defensive and uptight, and turned out to be a really silly boy, a faithful friend, a passionate boyfriend, but also a proud boy true to his values. The fights inspired Blaine to take up boxing. Not to gain advantages in Fight Club, but as a valid outlet for his anger, frustration, fears and surplus emotions. Being at Dalton, becoming friends with Nick and Jeff, getting other friends like Wes and David, being hijacked into the Warblers, experiencing safety, respect, admiration and friendship in a way he'd never seen before helped him completely back on his feet. Sure, he still had some hesitance in school, but he'd learned to let go with his closest friends; Kurt the latest addition to his closest circle. He'd learned manners, etiquette and politeness back home, and had cultivated those traits to be a classy, dapper, composed Dalton boy. But he could also allow himself to be a teenager when it felt safe.

Dalton and the Warblers helped him mould himself back together, and he thrived, exploring his possibilities. He joined the fencing team, just because he wanted to do something fun and take up a hobby nobody expected of him. He gained confidence with the Warblers, and after only one semester he was unanimously voted their new leader. When his junior year started, he ran for school president, surprising some of his friends with his dedication, passion and eloquence. It was all part of his upbringing, but now he decided to use it for something he wanted, not just something expected. Dalton had given him so much his first year there, and he wanted to give something back.

The world outside the gates of Dalton is his final frontier, though, his Achilles' heel, his road block. But he's working on it, for Kurt. Blaine never thought he'd find someone like him. A boy who unconsciously challenges Blaine to improve. A boy who through his share existence dares Blaine to make an effort. A boy who makes Blaine dream and hope, and realize that although he has a decent life at Dalton, he can still have a much better life in this world.

Blaine and Cooper grew further apart after the transfer to Dalton. Blaine felt safe, and didn't need the support and comfort from his older brother on the west coast as desperately as before. They both got caught up in the whirlwinds of their lives – Cooper with his auditions and acting, Blaine with being a well liked teenager enjoying high school. But when Cooper came home for the family holidays, they'd curl up in Blaine's apartmentesque room, and talk for hours, updating the other on their lives and values, ideas and dreams. They'd catch up and try to make amends for how little they were in touch between the holidays. Coop would still offer his advice free of charge, probably rightfully claiming he had more life experience than Blaine, and thus was in a superb position to educate the smaller, sorry – younger boy. Blaine no longer idolized him like he used to. Age and maturity had made him discover flaws and faults in his brother. It made him love him even more, for actually being human, but the love was now healthier and more profound.

Blaine realizes he's been whispering his thoughts out loud for a while, reminding Cooper of their childhood memories, telling him things from Dalton he probably didn't know, and most definitely exploring stories he's told him dozens of times before. Without any response from Cooper. Which isn't that odd, as his induced coma will prevent him from doing any of the things Blaine is longing to see; a twitch in a facial muscle, his fingers curling around Blaine's hand, lips sliding into a smile, a groan to let Blaine know he's rambling.

Their father has been gone for a long time now. There are paper work and insurance business to take care of, and he's probably having a talk with the film crew, threatening to sue their asses out of the industry for ever. Because that's how Devon Alexander Anderson deals. He buries himself in work and practical issues, removing himself from the person in question. When Blaine was in the hospital, his father spent the time remodelling his room and building him the pool. He never sat by his bed just to sit there; he always came with colour samplings, wanted input in decoration, or talked about practical matters, like Blaine's rehabilitation and training. Their father just didn't do emotions. While Blaine seems to be unable to do anything but emotions.

"_If you ever leave me baby_," he sings in a murmured voice, holding Cooper's hand firmly. "_Leave some morphine at my door. 'Cause it would take a whole lot of medication, To realize what we used to have, We don't have it anymore_."

Despite the doctors giving Coop pretty good prognoses for surviving, Blaine still cries. He's so afraid of losing his brother, he's petrified they'll discover permanent brain injuries, he's so afraid they'll reveal some internal damages they've overlooked.

"_Cause there'll be no sunlight, If I lose you, baby. There'll be no clear skies, If I lose you, baby. Just like the clouds, My eyes will do the same, if you walk away. Everyday it will rain, rain, rain..._"

"_I'll never be your mother's favourite_," Blaine sings, and chokes on the words, thinking about how their mom upped and moved right after Blaine came out. He knows she's still in touch with Cooper. He never talks about it, not wanting to upset Blaine, but only reassured him that the contact was one sided. If she abandoned Blaine, she abandoned the both of them, she couldn't just pick which kid to mother as if they were some trophies in a tombola she'd won.

"_Your daddy can't even look me in the eye_," Blaine continues to sing, but it's too difficult. He often feels like an orphan, with no parents to just love him and be there for him. Coop is the closest family he's got. And what happens if he loses him?

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Bruno Mars – _It Will Rain_


	38. Alternative Brother

**AN: Phuh, my March-exam is finally done, and I'm back in full swing updating both of my stories! Thank you for your patience, it's really appreciated! It's an honour and pleasure to see the numbers of reviews, favourites and followers constantly increasing - thank you! As usual, I answer every single reviewer (who isn't anon), and I can't believe I've soon reached 300 reviews on this!**

**I know some of you are getting anxious to see Blaine and Kurt happen, and they will happen - and I know in which chapter, I have a lot of plot planned out. Please trust me on this.**

**Remember: Don't spoil anything from season 4, as I'm not up to date on watching the episodes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but I have a lot of wicked time playing with them.**

* * *

Blaine shuffles his feet carefully in the dark, trying to remember the safest path to Cooper's kitchen. He hasn't been here that often, but doesn't want to stump his toes. He doesn't want to switch on the lights and risk waking his father on the couch either. Blaine tucks the grey cardigan firmer across his chest.

He barely opens the refrigerator door, and positions himself so he can block most of the light escaping, shielding his father as he reaches for a bottle of water.

"You don't have to act like a burglar; I'm awake," a voice from the living room startles Blaine, and he drops the bottle, it landing heavily on his left instep. Instinctively, he clutches his foot, jumping on the other and cursing like a homeless sailor.

"Language," his father softly scolds from behind him, and places his hands on Blaine's shoulders to support his balance. "Couldn't sleep?"

Blaine nods, wiggling his toes on the injured foot.

"How about grilled cheese?" his father suggests.

They work together in silence, moving effortlessly around each other to get things done. Blaine's father makes the sandwiches, while Blaine brews his special hot chocolate; one of the few things he's capable of making successfully without a recipe.

In the living room, Blaine automatically curls up under the covers, feet tucked under his thighs to thaw them. His father sits down next to him, looking relaxed, comfortable and out of character with his ankle crossed over his knee, in plaid pajamas and a marine robe. The gigantic widescreen is muted, and it looks as if his father was watching _60 Minutes_.

"How are you?" he asks, and takes a big sip of the hot chocolate Blaine made.

Blaine's chewing slows down, and he swallows the food carefully.

"I don't think my wellbeing is the biggest concern at the moment," he says hesitantly, and gulps down half the water bottle to moist his raw throat and as an excuse for not saying anything else.

"I simply assumed this would be difficult for you. It's brought back a lot of memories for me; I suspected it'd be the same for you."

Blaine twirls the half full water bottle in his hands, watching the transparent liquid dance up along the sides.

"It's awful," he admits. "I hate hospitals. But I can't run away again, I need to be here for Coop." He replaces the water bottle with the mug.

"A father shouldn't have to go through these things. It physically hurts to see your son in a hospital bed."

_Oh._ Blaine hadn't thought about how this was for his father, he'd been so focused on Cooper, his own needs, being comforted by Kurt, and following the advice to let the elder Anderson sort out all the practical issue.

"Seeing Coop in that bed reminds me so, so much about what happened to you, Blaine. I don't think I can ever get over it."

His voice sounds thick, but from what Blaine can see in the dark his eyes are clear and dry.

"I'm sorry I've caused you so much pain," Blaine murmurs, looking down in his mug, following the movements as he swirls the liquid around in the porcelain.

"What?" '

His outburst startles Blaine, and he almost spills the drink in his lap. Hesitantly he looks up to meet his father's eyes.

"I'm sorry for… everything," Blaine whispers, gesturing randomly around him as if it can include his mom leaving them, the trouble he caused with his need for recovery and therapy after the attack, the pain and frustration his father must have dealt with, not to mention the money spent; basically all the hassle with having a gay son.

His father sets his mug and plate safely on the table, and grabs his son by the shoulders, swiftly turning him so they're facing each other.

"You are _not_ to apologize or feel guilty about anything that has ever happened this family, okay? Not now, not later, and I feel awful if that's how you've felt up to today."

He looks questioningly at Blaine, as if he's waiting for a confirmation.

"It would have been easier if I waited to come out," Blaine shrugs.

"God Blaine, and when do you think would have been a perfect moment to come out? And what would you have done in the meantime?" He almost sounds angry.

"Maybe in college, in New York?" he says, and this is the first time he's actually voiced anything resembling post-high school plans for his father, and yeah, maybe they should have that conversation some other time. "I could have sucked it up," he continues.

"Son," he says, and his voice is firm, but the pat on his arm seems hesitant and clumsy, as if it's a foreign gesture. Which it is. They've never been very physical with each other.

"I just want you to be happy. And I'm not thrilled knowing about all the hard times you've already gone through and still have to face, whether you want it or not. I think it's bloody unfair, and yes, I would have felt better if you… If you weren't gay," he rushes out the words as if they taste bad in his mouth. "Because I want you to have a good life. But I also want you to be you. No hiding, no faking, no pretending, no regrets."

Blaine tries to look at his father, but it's difficult to see him through the clouded fog covering his eyes. His cheeks are wet. He wants to crawl into his father's lap just like the little boy he once was, but there are still too many questions and too much resentment lingering in the front of his mind.

"I heard you fight." The words slip out before it's a conscious decision. "You were so angry with mom, blaming her for turning me gay. You tried to man me up, until you ignored me completely. You don't like that I'm gay," Blaine says harshly. He's been holding this in for so long, and now it's all slipping out through the little crack he dared to open.

"No, I didn't like it when you came out," his father readily admits. "I didn't know much, and understood even less. A lot of my hopes and dreams burst that day, and I felt like a failure as a father. But at the same time I felt confident I had treated Cooper and you the same, so it was easy to take the anger out on your mom, because you were so close, while Cooper was independent and ran off on his own as soon as he could walk."

Blaine swallows heavily, several times, until taking a large gulp of the water. He wonders if it's his role to educate his father, and if this is the right moment to do so? And how can he explain he's born this way without doing a Lady Gaga-number?

"I'm sorry for disappointing you," Blaine says instead, and his father instantly cups his cheek with his big hand.

"Hey, what did I say? No more apologies or guilt-trips. I'm disappointed in how I dealt with this back then, but that's my cross to carry. Your role is to be you, and I should have supported you sooner. But I'm really trying here now, Blaine."

He swallows heavily, loudly, and Blaine has to look up after studying the pattern of the covers. His father's eyes are moist.

"Father…" Blaine whispers.

"I've educated myself. I've been reading, and Coop's been helping. He's introduced me to people whenever I've had business meetings in LA. He even took me to a gay bar before Christmas. That was interesting," he chuckles, and Blaine stares wide eyed at him. He cannot imagine his father in a bar, and most certainly not in a gay bar.

"You know how competitive Coop is?"

Blaine nods in confirmation.

"You should have seen how pissed he was when I got more free drinks than he did."

Blaine chokes on his disbelief, and his father hands him the mug of lukewarm chocolate.

"Apparently I still have my mojo…" his father muses.

"So what did you learn?" Blaine asks hesitantly, trying to suppress images of his father being propositioned in the bathrooms.

"I learned how wrong and prejudiced I've been," he says solemnly. "I got my stereotypic beliefs challenged. I got confirmed that you can still have a happy life. I learned that it's nothing neither your mom nor I did wrong. And I learned that some of my dreams may come true anyway, and if they don't it's because they aren't your dreams – not because society won't let you."

Blaine isn't sure he understands everything his father is saying, but he gets the gist of it. His father has had some revelations, changed his opinions on his son – and been close to scoring in an LA gay bar.

"But why now?" Blaine asks, realizing his father has made conscious and planned efforts to educate and update himself.

"I was afraid of losing you," his father says seriously. "I though I had lost you back then, watching you lifeless in the ambulance and listening to the doctors' pessimistic prognosis' in the hospital… But you conquered it all. I was still afraid of losing you, I worried it might happen again. I spent a lot of time disentangling myself emotionally from you, to be honest. Because it hurt so much, and I didn't want to go through that again."

He looks sadly at his son, and Blaine tries not to feel hurt or abandoned.

"Everything changed a year ago."

Blaine quickly scans his mental calendar, trying to remember what happened then.

"Grandpa died…"

"Yeah," he exhales sadly. "And I felt so lonely. No parents, no siblings, no wife. Cooper in LA. And you in Ohio, but still far, far gone, and probably not staying for long after graduation."

"I don't think I have a future in Ohio," Blaine mumbles, hoping above anything that his father won't forbid him this.

"I know. And I can deal with geographic distance, as long as we are on speaking terms. You know how much I travel with work; it doesn't matter where any of us live, as long as we have phones. Or so I hoped it would be. You're probably leaving in not much more than a year. I was hoping we could spend that year getting to know each other again."

"I'd like that too," Blaine murmurs, leaning in to hug his father.

"I love you, son. I'm working hard to earn your love too."

Blaine doesn't comment on that, it's still a bit soon and he needs to reevaluate almost everything to figure out how he feels.

"Father? Don't take me to a gay bar, though, okay?"

His father laughs, and tightens the embrace.

"Of course not, son," he says, and leans back. "You're still underage," he winks.

Blaine can't help but laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

"Now, go on, I need some more sleep so I can face the lawyers later, and you have a phone call to make."

Blaine looks at him with confusion written all over his face.

"I may still need to get to know you all over again, years have passed since we really talked and I knew anything profound about you. But I've been paying attention for the last months. You turn to Kurt whenever you need a friend."

Blaine is dumbfounded, gaping for air and words like a fish on dry land.

"And don't you dare not calling your friend just to prove some stupid point; I know how stubborn you can be just to prove me wrong. It's okay to be predictable sometimes, and it's okay to need someone." He takes a moment to glance at the gold wristwatch on the table. "It's close to 7 AM back home, if you're lucky you won't even wake him up."

"It… It was nice talking with you. Again."

"It was. It is. And I don't feel hurt that you need to decompress this with a friend," he says sadly, and Blaine briefly wonders if his father has any close friends he can turn to, to talk about life.

* * *

Blaine is dozing uncomfortably in the chair, clutching Cooper's hand. He slips in and out of consciousness, and is easily disturbed by noises from the hallway, but also too tired to stay awake in the otherwise silent and passive room. The door whines muffled as someone steps in. Probably just a nurse to check the machines. Blaine should sit up straighter and address the staff, get updates, but his eyes are too heavy.

The scratching noise of a chair being pulled up next to him rips him finally out of the slumber, and he squints blearily at the person sitting down next to him.

"Father?" he croaks. He hasn't seen him much by Cooper's bedside these days.

A hand runs down the back of his head and neck, and rests on the back of his chair. Blaine instinctively leans in closer, without letting go of his brother.

"You were gone when I got up," Blaine mumbles tiredly.

"Our lawyer and I had an early meeting with the film crew's lawyer. I thought you could need the sleep."

"Oh, okay. Thank you. How did the meeting go?"

"Good. They seem adamant to keep this out of court and get it over with before anyone notices, so we'll just have to decide how to settle. It's not about money, they just can't… They can't run their business like that; they have to learn their lesson."

Blaine nods against his father's arm. Money is never an Anderson issue. This is about stating a claim, setting an example, possibly some revenge and payback. Blaine still remembers how furious his father had been when Blaine couldn't remember who was behind the attack, couldn't even remember any details to give an idea of who could have done it. He initially thought his father was disappointed in his lack of perceptiveness or futile attempt at helping the police. But he's beginning to think it was about justice being served when someone had hurt an Anderson. Someone he cared about, maybe even loved?

He swallows with difficulty. He has a lot of moments and episodes to reevaluate after last nights conversation. Talking with Kurt on the phone had helped. He'd caught the boy a couple of minutes after his alarm clock woke him up, but Kurt had still been in bed, sounding warm and comfortable, and in a good mood. Blaine had really wanted a hug from his friend at that moment, to be in his arms again. But just listening to his voice had helped a lot. Kurt had talked him through his tears of relief, happiness, confusion and bewilderment. He had soothed him, he had listened to his ramblings about episodes with his father from the last years, and he had been honestly happy for him. They had to end the conversation before Blaine felt ready, but regrettably Kurt had classes.

"Mr. Anderson?"

The youngest and the elder Anderson turn in their chairs towards the door. It's Cooper's doctor, Dr. Parker. His father gets up from the chair and shakes hand with the man, even though they've met before. The doctor smiles and nods at Blaine. They've talked several times each and every single day. They should probably be on first names' basis soon.

"We have news about Cooper," Dr. Harper says, seriously. "It's probably good news."

Blaine can feel how he almost sinks through the chair with relief, and his father seems much more relaxed next to him.

"As you know, we chose to put Cooper in a drug induced coma, to lower the brain activity and blood flow. It decreased the amount of space the blood vessels occupy in the brain, giving more room for his swellings after the accident, and hopefully avoid intracranial pressure. It's clear now that Cooper's brain is almost reduced to its normal size, and we would like to slowly take him off the drugs and let him wake up from the coma to better assess what damages he's received from the fall. It's a good sign that his brain not only stopped swelling, but has retreated towards normal size this quickly," the doctor reassures them.

"So what happens now?" Mr. Anderson asks.

"We'll gradually take him off the drugs, and he should be able to wake up around this time tomorrow. After that, we'll have to do more tests to know his state."

"But what are we talking about here? What are worst case scenarios?"

"The swelling may have inflicted severe permanent brain injury," the doctor says calmly. "He could be a vegetable, to put it in layman terms. But he could also be perfectly fine, going back to normal. No matter the outcome, this has been a serious trauma for his brain, and anything that happens now, will take time. Just being in an induced coma will give us an aftermath to deal with. But let's cross that bridge when we come to it."

The doctor double checks his charts and the machines, before adjusting the drip to Cooper's IV.

"We'll check in on him throughout. We don't expect anything to happen for the next 12 hours. It might be a good idea to get some food and sleep now."

The doctor leaves and Mr. Anderson looks at his son.

"You haven't even seen anything of LA while we're here."

"I really don't think sightseeing is appropriate considering the circumstances."

"No, but you haven't seen anything but this hospital. Let's grab a late lunch, catch up on some sleep, and come back tonight, well rested to deal with whatever Coop throws at us."

"He can be quite a handful, can't he?"

"He sure can. Come on," he says, gently prodding Blaine by the shoulder to get up.

Blaine's stomach decides that's the right moment to growl and reveal he skipped breakfast to get to Coop quicker. He sighs, but gathers his things. He takes his brother hand one last time, holding it firmly, and leans in to whisper in his ear.

"It's time to wake up, big brother."

Mr. Anderson wraps an arm around Blaine's shoulders as they walk down the hallway towards the elevator. Blaine looks at him with big eyes.

"That was a little weird wasn't it?" he asks, and drops his hand.

"Yeah, it was. A little weird. Maybe… Maybe later?" Blaine offers, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

"So, do you still like pizza?"

Blaine rolls his eyes, but smiles teasingly at his father.

"No, when I came out I was given a gift basket, which among other things consisted of a new set of gay taste buds. I now only eat Japanese sushi, Norwegian goat cheese, French escargot, Rocky Mountain oysters and Belgian chocolate."

Blaine knows he's taking a chance by speaking like this to his father, joking about his sexuality and not offer a serious answer to the question. But if his father really wants to get to know him, he should be able to be himself, make lame jokes, talk about being gay, play with stereotypes and bare himself for his father.

"I've been wondering what that pink flamingo on our roof was all about," he chuckles, and winks at his son. "Well, I'm more familiar with the gay bars than the gay restaurants, so I suggest you lead the way," he smiles, and Blaine's stomach calms down. He takes them to the nearest KFC.

* * *

"Blaine, hi, how are you?"

Kurt drops everything in his hands to answer the incoming call, it's not like he hasn't seen this movie several times before. Nick pauses it anyway.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Blaine murmurs softly, and Kurt can imagine him drowsy in bed after a long day in the hospital.

"Never," Kurt assures him.

"I miss you; I wish you were here."

The butterfly farm in Kurt's stomach makes a synchronized take off.

"There's just so much going on, and I need my best friend to talk through it," Blaine continues.

"I know," Kurt says, "but I'm here for you like this, at least."

Blaine sounds tired, but there's also an edge to his voice Kurt hasn't heard since he left. It's as if some of the dread and worry have lifted.

"How is Cooper?" he dares to ask.

"He's making progress," Blaine sighs, sounding relieved. He goes on telling Kurt about the conversation with his doctor. "I don't know what'll happen, but after doing nothing but watch his still body for days, it's nice to be guaranteed a change."

"I know what you mean," Kurt says softly.

"I'm sorry you had to go through everything with your dad, but I have to admit it's good to have someone who understands."

Kurt simply smiles and hums.

"Dad and I had a long talk last night."

Kurt's lips curl into a fond smile.

"It must have been a good talk," he murmurs.

"How'd you know?"

"The tone of your voice. You usually sound more mockingly when you call him 'dad', or you call him 'father' as if it's less personal."

"I do?" Blaine asks surprised. "Huh. Well, it was an enlightening talk. There are still things we need to work and talk through, and I don't trust him completely. But I understand him better, and… I think I can get my dad back eventually," Blaine whispers, sounding choked.

"Oh, Blaine, honey, I'm so, so happy for you. Give me a summary, and we can talk more about it when you come back."

"Okay, some key words: Gay bar, pink flamingo, testicles, an awkward hug and a few revelations."

"Well, colour me intrigued," Kurt grins. "You're quite the tease, I'll say."

Nick and Jeff giggle behind his back, and Kurt gestures for them to drop it. Or slice their throats.

"Well, it's getting late in Ohio, so I'll get off your back."

"You could never be a bother, Blaine."

"Thank you for listening, though."

"Let me know whenever anything changes with Coop, okay?"

They end the conversation, and Kurt turns around to face his friends.

"I love you, Blaine," Nick says in a high pitched voice, talking into his phone and fluttering his eyelashes.

"I love you too, Kurt," Jeff swoons into his own phone.

"Really mature, guys," Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Hey, don't mock love, it's nothing to fool around with, it's serious business," Jeff scolds.

"Uhuh, I'm sure."

"It hurts me you take love so lightly," Nick sighs, his hand clutching over his heart.

"Okay, I'm officially kicking you out of my room. Go nurture all your loving feelings somewhere else," Kurt insist, shooing them out.

* * *

Dr. Parker told them the drugs should be out of Cooper's system by now, and they just have to wait for him to wake up. Blaine and his father have spent the last 24 hours in the hospital, when a night nurse comes by.

"Why don't you go home and get some sleep? He's currently not considered to be in critical condition, and as soon as he wakes up you'll be shooed out of here so we can run tests and examinations anyway. We promise to call you immediately, when anything changes. Spend this night in beds, won't you?"

Father and son finally relent, and go back to Cooper's apartment. Blaine texts Kurt until he falls asleep.

* * *

Blaine wakes up to the smell of egg and bacon, and his mouth waters before his eyes are even focused.

"Food?" he mumbles as he stumbles into the kitchen.

"Grab two plates, and find something for us to drink in the fridge, will you?"

Blaine nods, still looking for his voice, and pulls out plates, glasses and orange juice. He sits down by the kitchen nook, yawning behind his hands. The older Anderson serves them their food, and sits down opposite his son.

"How did you sleep, son?"

"M'fine, I just had a lot on my mind," Blaine mumbles, trying to clear his voice.

"Do you think you need sleeping pills again?" his father asks worriedly, and takes Blaine back to the time after the attack where he couldn't sleep with all the pain and nightmares.

"No, it's far from that bad. But how are you?" he asks, looking honestly at his father.

"I'm optimistic. I'm looking forward to see my other son. He's woken up, and we can see him in one hour." Mr. Anderson smiles fondly, his eyes twinkling.

Blaine's fork is hovering midair in front of his mouth, the boy completely frozen.

"Do you think you can be ready to leave in forty minutes?"

Blaine nods dumbly.

"Yeah. Yes. Of course. Is he…?"

"I don't know much more than that, so I hold back the panic and the euphoria 'till I've seen him and talked with Dr. Parker."

Blaine nods and shakes all table manners away, stuffing his face to finish breakfast as fast as possible.

* * *

When they arrive at the hospital, they're brought to Dr. Parker's office.

"Mr. Anderson," he greets, shaking both men's hands. "Cooper is awake, and his prognosis' looks good. His responses to our cognitive tests are excellent, we're quite satisfied with his EEG-measures, and there are no positive results from his blood tests."

"But?" Blaine asks, not believing things are this easy.

"Well, so far we've mostly talked about his brain issues, but a fall like that wouldn't leave his body physically unharmed. He's still bruised and sore, and very much beaten up. Nothing is broken, but it'll probably be some time before he can walk properly again."

The question marks radiate from father and son.

"We can't know for sure about other injuries; pulled muscles and tendons. His body will be weak after spending this much time in bed. And we already know he's suffering from delirium."

"Delirium? Like dizziness?" Blaine wonders.

"Delirium is a generic term for various side effects Cooper may have to deal with, as his brain reacts to the drugs we used to keep him in a coma."

"Could you tell us about these side effects?" Blaine asks carefully, afraid of what he'll hear. The heavy, but comforting feeling, of his dad's hand on his shoulder reminds him he's not alone.

"Let me assure you it's merely a short term state, we're not speaking about permanent reactions. But for a while he may be suffering from hallucinations and delusions, slipping in and out of present reality. You may experience mood swings, violent reactions, or he may seem drunk or high on drugs."

"How do we deal with that?" Mr. Anderson asks.

"Cooper doesn't remember what happened, and we'll break it to him gently. It would be for the best if you play along to avoid confusing him, but comfort him if he's upset or sad. Don't encourage his misrepresentations, but don't dismiss them or try to explain how wrong he is. It'll eventually pass on its own."

"How is he currently?"

"He was high as a kite the lat time I saw him, but that's 45 minutes ago, so he may very well have changed."

"May we see him?"

"Of course."

Dr. Parker gets up, and takes father and son to Cooper's room.

"Dad!" Cooper beams! "You brought Lenny Kravitz!"

Blaine self-consciously touches his hair and face. He didn't take his time to shave or style his hair this morning, not with the knowledge about his awoken brother. He quickly removes his dark sunglasses, while Blaine sings.

"_Oh I want to get away, I want to fly away, Yeah yeah yeah!_"

"May I hug you?" Blaine asks, laughing with relief. His brother may be all loopy, but he looks so good, and it's such a drastic change from last night.

"I'd be honoured," Cooper blushes.

* * *

The three Anderson guys spend the day together, listening to Cooper's hilarious imagination. He slips in and out of slumber, and sometimes he wakes up perfectly clear and lucid. Surprisingly he doesn't wonder about the hospital bed and equipment, but chats easily about dates, Dalton and their dad's business.

Late in the afternoon Mr. Anderson insists on taking Blaine out for dinner, as they haven't eaten a proper meal since breakfast, only light snacks from a vending machine. They end up in a generic Italian place, the first and closest eating establishment, to get quickly back to Cooper.

"I think you should go back to Ohio, Blaine," his father announces without preamble.

"Why?" Blaine blurts out.

"You've missed a week of school, and Cooper is awake. I'll take him back to Columbus as soon as Dr. Parker discharges him, and you can see him every evening if you want."

"But…" Blaine objects.

"But right now there's nothing you can do for him," his father interrupts. "You have classes to attend, papers to write, tests to ace – and don't you have Regionals to prepare for too?"

Blaine sighs. He doesn't care about missing school to stay with Cooper. But he feels responsible for the Warblers, and they've already had several rehearsals without him. Wes reassured him he's still their chosen lead when Blaine offered to withdraw in favour of someone actually being at Dalton. It's about time he goes back to his commitments.

"You're right," Blaine says calmly. "But I expect frequent updates, and you have to take notes of anything he says we can blackmail him with later."

* * *

"Blaine, wait up, where are you going?" Kurt jogs to catch up with the boy leaving his dorm room.

"Hey," he beams. "I'm headed out for a run, I need to move after sitting hauled by Cooper's bed for a week," he says, tucking on the finger gloves firmer.

"Is your hip troubling you?"

"Yeah, it's acting up, it always does if I don't exercise frequently."

"Do you mind if I join you?" Kurt asks carefully.

"Of course not, Kurt. It would be nice to have company."

"Give me a minute, and I'll get into suitable clothes."

* * *

"That was one kick ass concert," Blaine gushes. "I don't where to begin to pick a favourite." He waves his hands enthusiastically, almost hitting Kurt who slides up next to him after locking the car.

"I think my top choice has to be the girl covering Janis Joplin. I've never heard her songs performed like that."

"Mmm, I can agree. But don't forget about the Joni Mitchell-tribute. Oh, and the duo having fun with Christina Aguilera's songs," Blaine insists eagerly.

"It's been a fun night," Kurt concludes, hoisting his bag further up on his shoulder.

"I'm glad Tina invited us to join."

She had found a concert in Columbus making tribute to female artists as a part of the International Women's Day. Most of the girls from New Directions were there, along with Blaine and Kurt. Feminist happenings were also quite LGBT friendly, so the boys had a lot of fun dancing and shaking loose all night. Kurt doesn't say it, but he's glad Blaine decided to go with them. He's been distracted since he came back, as if his mind was still in LA. It's only been three days, and Cooper and Mr. Anderson would be back today. Cooper needed rest, which he could get in the Anderson home. And their father had already made arrangements with a specialist in Columbus to check up on Cooper regularly. So they left LA for an undetermined amount of time.

Kurt had been very much prepared to go back to Dalton, but Blaine insisted he go with him. They could spend the rest of the weekend working on Kurt's swimming, and of course catching up with Cooper. But not now, though. It's really late, so Kurt will go straight to the guest room, and Blaine will take the couch in his own room, as Cooper is occupying his bed.

* * *

Blaine wakes up the next morning when Ella enters to give Cooper his food and medicine.

"Ella!" he greets fondly, bushy head sticking out from under the covers.

"Blaine, darling, how are you?" she smiles warmly.

"I'm really good. And you?"

"I've got all my boys under the same roof again. I can hardly complain," she beams. "I brought you breakfast too, your father said you'd be here."

"Did he mention… uh…"

"That young man in the guest room?" she asks knowingly.

Blaine nods bashfully.

"Kurt's already had breakfast with Mr. Anderson. He'll come up with coffee when it's done; he should be here soon."

"He's…? With dad? Already? But?" Blaine fumbles on the table to find his pocket watch and check the time. It's almost noon.

"This is so embarrassing," he groans.

"Don't be silly, you probably needed to catch up on your sleep," Kurt chimes from the door. He's carrying a tray with three coffee mugs, milk and sugar. "I don't know how Cooper takes his coffee, but I guessed you might have picked up your medium drip-habit from him."

"I didn't, actually, but I probably would have copied his coffee order if he began drinking it before he left Ohio."

"Leighton!" a voice calls from the bedroom.

"He thinks I'm Leighton Meester, and we're married," Ella whispers conspiratorially, before bringing Cooper his tray.

"They look nothing alike at all," Kurt whispers to Blaine.

"He's having these hallucinations and weird ideas," Blaine explains in a whisper. "The doctor called it deliriums. I experienced it a lot in LA too, and we don't know how long it'll last. In advance, I apology for anything he might say or do," Blaine rushes out, looking worried.

"Dad was the same when he woke up. He petted and talked with the dog constantly the first week."

"And you don't have a dog?" Blaine asks to make sure, although he can't remember Kurt ever mentioning a dog.

"I didn't think so, but according to dad we had a Yorkie called Buckeye. You should have seen how he made a nest for the poor pup with one of my scarves." Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Well, at least the dog didn't shed all over your clothes," Blaine shrugs, making Kurt laugh. "Come on, let me introduce you to my brother."

"Kurt! It's so good to see you again, it's been too long! When was it last, when we celebrated my Oscar, wasn't it?"

Kurt smiles and takes both of Cooper's hands in his.

"I'm so sorry, but it's been really hectic. I'm glad we finally have a chance to catch up, though," he says to the man he's never met before.

Blaine looks thankful and relieved next to him, as if he didn't trust Kurt's improvising acting skills.

"Let me see your ring," Cooper grins smugly.

"Ring?"

"Dad told me Blaine finally popped the big question. I need to see the ring. I do know bling."

Blaine groans behind Kurt's back, and hides his face in his hands.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Squirt. Some believe in freedom to embrace everything life has to offer, and some believe in sticking with only one for the rest of their life. Now, ring?" he asks, wiggling his fingers.

"We haven't got any rings," Blaine sighs, and Cooper's face falls.

"…yet," Kurt adds, quickly glancing at Blaine as they sit down on two chairs next to the bed. "I've designed our rings, so they're still being made."

"Aww," Cooper coos, wiping off a tear from his dry eye.

"I've always dreamed about designing the rings for my future husband and me. Our marriage would without doubt be special, and I wanted to make sure the rings were unique too…"

"It's such a beautiful thought," Blaine whispers tenderly.

"Aren't you going to kiss your fiancé now?" Cooper insists, looking pointedly at his brother.

"Not when you're in the same bedroom," Kurt winks.

Cooper is still focused on his blushing little brother, so Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him somewhat closer, and takes Kurt's hand with his other.

"It's so good to see you happy, Squirt. You deserve it after everything. So, are you getting kids? And which one of you will carry it?"

"Umm, we don't have uteruses, we can't get pregnant," Kurt says hesitantly, not knowing if he should play along with Cooper's idea.

"I'm not an idiot; I know that," Copper shakes his head. "I was subtly snooping in your sex life, to find out who tops and who bottoms."

Kurt chokes on air, and Blaine has to thump him on the back to end his coughing.

"We're waiting until we're married," he quickly explains his nosy brother.

"You know, that would be so much easier to believe if I didn't already know what fine specimen you are after I walked in on you in a very naked and very compromising position."

Blaine and Kurt look hopeless at each other. How do you explain someone who believes they've seen you have sex, about your sex life when you haven't had sex?

"Don't be shy!" Cooper teases.

"Well," Kurt begins. "The good thing about being gay is there are a lot more options and versatility than for straight couples."

"I knew it!" Cooper grins triumphantly. "You both have irresistible asses!"

"Okay, enough about us, what's new in your life, Coop?"

Cooper easily embraces the possibility to talk about his own life and move the spotlight away from the teenagers, but Blaine doesn't move his hands away from Kurt. Kurt doesn't mind, but has to concentrate to avoid curling up further in the embrace. It's only play pretend.

* * *

Blaine makes the 30 minutes drive to Columbus as often as possible, to see how his brother is doing, help his dad take care of Cooper, give Ella some time off, and bond more with his dad. It's still tense and a bit awkward, and they are both stumbling to find a new connection and communication. But they are both trying, and last time Blaine was home his dad had wanted to know everything about Sectionals, to be prepared for Regionals.

It digs severely into the time he usually spends with Kurt, and they've hardly seen each other outside of class and Warblers the last days. That's why he asks Kurt to accompany him back to Columbus as soon as the Council dismisses them. They both have a math test the next day, so he uses it as a ruse to needing Kurt that night, he can't admit that he just needs to be with him.

"We could even spend the night?" he suggests. "We wouldn't have to get up that much earlier to drive back tomorrow."

"Okay," Kurt agrees pretty easily. "It would be nice to see how Coop's doing."

They quickly return to their rooms to pack overnight bags, and Blaine finishes the ride in just 23 minutes.

"Someone's eager to get home," Kurt raises his eyebrows, clearly not approving of Blaine's speeding.

"There was hardly any traffic," Blaine smiles bashfully and takes out both of their bags from the car.

"That's right," Kurt snorts. "Everybody was mesmerized by the aggressive trail of dust you left them."

"Spoilsport," Blaine teases.

"Daredevil," Kurt parries.

"Blaine, is that you?" Mr. Anderson asks before he's even turned the corner to see who entered his home.

"Hey Dad, is the guest bed still made from the last time Kurt was here?"

"You know how efficient Ella is; the sheets were washed before you were back at Dalton," his dad answers, and joins them in the hallway. "Oh, good evening Kurt," he says when he spots the other boy, sounding surprised, but as in a good surprise. "Will you join us for dinner, Kurt?"

"I'm sorry to intrude, Mr. Anderson," Kurt apologizes, "but Blaine wanted me to come so we can finish the preparations for a test tomorrow."

"No need to be sorry, it isn't the first time Blaine's forgotten to inform me he's filling the house with his friends," Mr. Anderson smiles at Kurt, but playfully scoffs at his youngest son. "Let's go and tell Ella she needs to set the table for one more."

Cooper is already seated by the dining table, and his face lights up when he sees the three men joining him.

"Squirt, come hug your big brother!" Blaine laughs and skips over to his brother, giving him a warm hug. Cooper seems happy today. Two days ago he'd been mostly sad, thinking he'd never be able to go back to acting, and then slipping into sulking delirium states where he thought he was a little kid who was grounded for stealing chocolate.

"It's good to see you out of bed, Cooper," Kurt greets friendly.

"Likewise, I guess. I'm sorry, but have we met?" Cooper looks confused, although his charming demeanor doesn't falter.

Kurt and Blaine quickly exchange looks. Coop wasn't himself when Kurt stayed last and they had to talk about engagement and sex. As far as Cooper knows, he's never met Kurt before.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me. Blaine has told me so much about you it feels as if we've already met," Kurt smoothly covers. "I'm Kurt Hummel," he says, reaching out a hand to shake with Cooper's.

"He's my best friend and goes to Dalton," Blaine quickly explains.

"Oh, so you're the enigmatic Kurt. I've heard everything about you," Cooper grins, and Blaine groans. He thinks he prefers a loopy Cooper, at least then he can excuse him.

"Nothing bad, I hope," Kurt smiles disarmingly, and sits down in the chair Mr. Anderson dedicates his.

"You know, I don't think Blainers here is able to say anything bad about you," Cooper winks. "But enough about you, poor soul. What has be been telling you about me?"

He grins broadly, and Kurt laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

"All bad things, I assure you."

"I expected nothing less," Cooper playfully smacks the back of Blaine's head. "Afraid of older, smarter, hotter, more successful competition, are we?"

"Oh, give Blaine eight years to reach your age, and I feel pretty confident he'll have achieved a whole new level of success. Then we can start comparing, if it'll even be a fair competition," Kurt automatically responds in his usual snarky style.

The table drops dead silent. Mr. Anderson stares wide-eyed at him, Cooper's mouth hangs open in disbelief, and Blaine's head hangs down towards his lap and he's chewing on his bottom lip to keep silent.

"That was all kinds of rude!" Cooper scolds.

Kurt forces himself to sit calm and meet the older brother's eyes, but really he wants to dart out of the house and never come back.

"Kurt," Mr. Anderson says sternly. "I think I like you," he grins. "I've been telling Cooper for years to stop these unfair comparisons. Blaine, pass the salad, will you?"

Cooper mutters something unintelligible under his breath, but stops when his father gives him a warning look. Kurt resumes eating the chicken pot, feeling his heart settle down to a normal pace. Next to him, Blaine doesn't say anything, but he has this secretive smile on his lips. And he's wrapped his foot around Kurt's.

* * *

Ella and Mr. Anderson help Cooper back up to Blaine's room. His body is still fighting against him, and he hasn't properly regained his balance and strength yet. Kurt and Blaine settle down in the lounge with their math books and notes. Their upcoming test wasn't just a ruse.

"I'll be in my office if you need me for anything, boys," Mr. Anderson says, and enters the room adjoining the lounge. It's an incentive to study properly for the test, and the two teenagers quiz each other on formulas and mathematical rules.

"If I study anymore now, I think my head is going to burst and all my knowledge just pour out," Kurt eventually groans, violently shoving his books and notes back into his satchel.

Blaine doesn't say anything, and when Kurt looks up the boy is pale and still.

"Blaine?"

Kurt quickly makes a rerun of anything happening the last two minutes, and mentally decapitates himself.

"Oh my God, that was a really poor choice of words, I didn't think, I'm so, so sorry, Blaine," Kurt rushes out, and kneels next to the boy, begging for him to see him.

"It's fine," Blaine says distantly. "I think I'd like to go see Cooper now."

Blaine silently gets up from the couch and leaves. When he reaches the door, he turns around.

"You can join, if you want to," he smiles, but his eyes are dull.

Kurt battles with himself for a moment, before deciding to follow Blaine. He takes his overnight bag. If things get awkward, he can merely excuse himself and go to bed in the guest room.

He's not far after Blaine, and slips in to his room in time to hear Blaine call softly for his brother, wondering if he's awake. There's some rustling from the bedroom, and then a thump.

The boys leap into the room to see what's going on. They find Cooper leaning uncomfortably against the wall, a cane on the floor by his feet.

"I dropped it," he explains unnecessarily, and Kurt wonders who they are talking to now. Which version of Cooper is this?

Kurt crouches down to pick up the black, smooth cane with a silver handle delicately engraved with an intricate pattern. He snorts inwardly. Of course Cooper would go for a classy, stylish cane like this. Then again, Kurt probably would have done so too. For a fleeting moment he wonders if Blaine's crutches back then were ordinary or customized.

Cooper gratefully accepts the cane, and leans heavily on his much shorter brother as they slowly shuffle out of the bedroom.

"It's so good to see you, boys," Cooper sighs pleased. "I have something I want to run with you, a suggestion for your wedding."

Okay, so that's the Cooper they're dealing with now.

Cooper seems to regain some strength and mobility as they walk, and eventually brushes off Blaine's supporting hand. He shambles over to the stereo bench, flicking through the box of gramophone records.

"Ah, here it is," he beams, and flips open the lid of Blaine's gramophone player. He delicately takes the vinyl out of the carton wrapping, and barely touches it as he lowers it on the plateu, winds the player up with the handle, and gently places the needle on the record.

He steps away from the bench, positions his feet pointing in opposite direction as if making a broader platform to keep his balance, and leans on the cane on both hands right in front of him.

"_Smiiile…_" he sings, but quickly aborts the song. "I thought you could have your first dance as husbands to this. It would be much easier to decide if you fit the song if you'd dance for me," he says, looking pointedly at them.

Blaine blushes, studying his feet.

"I guess we better…" Kurt suggests hesitantly, taking half a step closer to Blaine.

"Oh, I get it," Cooper interrupts. "You haven't figured out who leads yet. Okay, Kurt is taller. Anyone's taller, Blaine. You'll never get to lead," he tuts, but grins at his brother.

Somehow the boys close the distance. They've danced before, they've been physically close so many times, and have more or less erased their usual personal spaces when they're with the other. But still this is something else entirely.

Kurt decides to be bold.

"Hello husband," he smiles flirtatiously, and wraps his arms around Blaine's waist.

"Hello to you too, my groom," Blaine flirts back, and rests his hands firmly, but yet softly on Kurt's shoulders. They wait for Cooper to start singing again.

"No need to be all shy or prudish now, I've seen it all before," Cooper winks, and limps over to restart the gramophone player.

"_Smile though your heart is aching. Smile even though it's breaking. When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by._"

When the boys don't act on his teasing, he smacks Blaine's calves with his cane. Blaine yelps, and jumps closer to Kurt, leaving them chest to chest. It's more than awkward having their faces this close, so Blaine rests his chin on Kurt's shoulder as they sway to the music. They're not making any actual dance steps, but Kurt is moving them slowly to Cooper's crooning. He almost hugs Blaine when he leans his head closer to whisper in Blaine's ear.

"New Directions sang this song for Mr. Schue when he decided to divorce his psychotic wife. I never thought I'd dance to the same lyrics in preparations of my fake wedding."

"_If you smile through your fear and sorrow, Smile and maybe tomorrow, You'll see the sun come shining through, For you._"

Blaine laughs silently, but his chest rumbles and moves against Kurt's. Kurt slides his arm further up along Blaine's shoulder blade, holding him closer. He doesn't know how much Blaine will ever be able to give him, so he takes whatever he can, instigated by Cooper's delirious brain or not.

"_Light up your face with gladness, Hide every trace of sadness. Although a tear may be ever so near. That's the time you must keep on trying. Smile, what's the use of crying? You'll find that life is still worthwhile - If you just smile._"

One of Blaine's hand snakes from Kurt's shoulder to his neck, comfortable tickles across his bare skin. His fingers settle down by the nape of Kurt's neck to play with his hair.

Kurt has to suppress violent shivers, as he closes his eyes to be able to focus on the feelings. He'll take whatever Blaine can give him, and treasure it.

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Lenny Kravitz – _Fly Away_

Charlie Chaplin – _Smile_ (lyrics by John Turner & Geoffrey Parsons)


	39. Adam

**AN: Hello, all my wonderful readers, thank you for following me on this journey! Without you, this story wouldn't be half the fun writing, and I'd probably spend my days doing laundry and watching crappy TV instead of playing with Glee and you guys. I love your reviews and feedback!**

**I've decided to shorten my chapters somewhat, hoping it'll make it possible to update more often. My chapters have grown into monsters. I know I promised some of you Regionals would be happening in this chapter. Well, it doesn't. I managed to delete ten pages of Regionals, and decided this chapter was long enough for now, and I still have to mourn the loss of my Fabulous Writing before I can stomach re-creating my Regionals-chapter...**

**This chapter is a birthday gift to a faithful reader and reviewer, I hope you like it, LvSammy!**

**Remember: I haven't watched everything in Season 4 yet, so please please no spoilers!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but enjoy playing with them.**

* * *

The next week is a good one. Cooper shows really great progress, and his brain and body seem to have readjusted after the induced coma, and no longer being affected by the drugs. He hasn't had any delirium spells lately, and the specialist Mr. Anderson found in Columbus has declared Cooper's brain completely undamaged.

Cooper is doing so fine, Blaine had been able to joke about the latest appointment with the specialist, complaining to Kurt how he'd hoped Coop would gain a slight brain damage to make him more normal and less… Cooper.

He's still pretty sore and beaten up after the fall, so he's staying for some more time before going back to LA. When he learned about Regionals next Saturday, he decided to stay long enough to be able to see Blaine perform and give him his instant, professional feedback.

The movie crew agreed on a deal with The Anderson Family's Lawyer, and various safety measurements would now be enforced in all of their future productions. Cooper had decided to finish filming the movie as soon as his body had healed, but will obviously be taking advantage of the stuntman that now suddenly was available on set. Blaine suspects his dad's had a serious conversation with his oldest son about taking headless risks in his job as well.

Blaine has spent most of his free time back home, with Kurt giving him as much support as he could muster. Kurt stayed at Dalton, though, arguing that Blaine should spend some quality time with his family without him.

Truth be told, Kurt needed some time alone. Or rather, some time away from Cooper and Blaine. Cooper's endless teasing and hinting at their unresolved relationship status is getting old, but also painful. Because Kurt is borderline exhausted. He's been grateful for anything and everything Blaine's given him so far, but he can hover in this limbo for only so long. At some time – which isn't that far away, he suspects – Kurt will arrive at the crossroad where he has the possibility to move on instead of waiting patiently for Blaine to be ready to date.

Kurt has been oh so understanding, glad for anything Blaine can give him, given the boy time, and really made efforts to see things from his perspective. But he can't wait for him for ever, can he? It's not like there are endless dating possibilities or anyone tempting Kurt in a new direction. But he has to protect his poor heart. And it can only take so much more, desperately longing for Blaine to be completely his.

Lately, Kurt's been suppressing this realization in favour of supporting Blaine, being a best friend, helping him with his parental confusion and then everything that went down with Cooper. But now Blaine is connecting with his dad, and the older brother is declared healthy. It gives Kurt space, possibility and options to take care of himself now. Helping and supporting Blaine has meant being closer to Blaine, and Kurt suspects he'll need to step back to the friend zone soon.

He's been thinking lately, if the decent thing would be to talk with Blaine about this. But he doesn't want to make the boy feel he's giving him an ultimatum either, forcing him to do something he isn't ready for. He just… He doesn't want to lose his best friend to heartbreak, and he has to withdraw his heart before it is forever ruined by this frustrating in-between-ness.

Now is not the time to dive into boy issues, though, because Regionals is in less than a week, and the Council has drilled the Warblers through a hard rehearsal all day. Kurt is sick and tired of their setlist, and thinks he'll actually throw up if he has to listen to Bruno Mars the next few hours.

To wind down, Kurt and Blaine are resting in Blaine's bed, with his laptop in front of them. Blaine wanted to show him a hilarious Youtube-clip Jeff had sent him the other day, and they ended up watching random videos. Until Blaine types in some words in the search field.

"Really, Blaine?" Kurt says, lifting one eyebrow quizzically. Adam Lambert's _For Your Entertainment_ is bursting through the speakers.

"What? I really like him."

"You're usually so Top 40."

"And he isn't?"

"Well, he ain't no Katy Perry, that's for sure."

"I think Adam Lambert is a talented singer and songwriter, and he's really entertaining."

"Obviously," Kurt snickers.

"Have you actually seen any of his music videos?"

"I usually _listen_ to music, not watch it."

"That settles it, then," Blaine says, and starts a new song. _Fever_.

"I don't know if I see the appeal," Kurt mumbles.

"What?" Blaine's outburst is sincere. "What is there not to like? He's hot! He balances and plays with both the feminine and the masculine, he's so soft and so rock, he has an amazing voice with an impressive range, and he really knows how to move his hips," Blaine gushes. "He's gay, really sexy, and he isn't afraid of being himself. He has a stage presence I adore. I've been a fan since I saw him in American Idol, he's my musical hero," Blaine concludes.

"Well, he's dancing bare feet, of course you'd like him," Kurt teases. "But if we talk about someone who knows how to sway his hips, I have another Adam to show you," Kurt smiles wickedly. He swats Blaine's hand off of the keyboard, and enters something in the search field.

Blaine hums to the overly familiar intro to _Night Fever_, but his face is blank when he looks at Kurt.

Kurt sighs exaggeratedly.

"Adam Garcia?"

Blaine still looks at him with a blank expression.

"He's the love interest in _Coyote Ugly_," Kurt explains, knowing Blaine will catch up with the more commercial part of culture.

He's right, Blaine's face lights up in recognition.

"But he doesn't sing or dance there?"

"No, but he does here," Kurt smirks, watching the screen.

"And what do you like about him?" Blaine asks with a strained tone of voice.

"Umm," Kurt blushes, not used to spell out what kind of guys he fancy. "He has this cute playfulness I like, he knows how to both sing and dance, although disco isn't exactly what I listen to the most. But he can pull it off," Kurt explains. "He has this nice balance of extremely hot and ever so sweet. And I'm a sucker for his accent," Kurt laughs embarrassed. He doesn't add how much he likes his unruly hair, nice arms and narrow waist, and how he can drown in his eyes. Kurt isn't used to gush about boys, even though Nick and Jeff do their best to pull out the flailing Kurt sometimes.

"I'd think you'd like Lambert as well. After all, he's been an understudy for Fiyero."

"Garcia _was_ Fiyero for two years in London and then two years in LA," Kurt deadpans.

"Well, I still don't see what's so special about him," Blaine shrugs. "His voice is lacking character, and I bet I could do what he does."

"Do you, now?" Kurt smiles with an evil glint in his eyes as he searches for a new video. "He's tap dancing to _Moves Like Jagger_ – I'd like to see you do that!"

"Maybe I can," Blaine shrugs.

Kurt gives him a disbelieving look.

"You can do that?"

"How should I know? I've never tried," Blaine smiles and winks.

"Idiot," Kurt mutters.

"You wound me, sir!" Blaine exclaims, grabbing Kurt by the shoulders and flipping him over. "Take it back!" He's resting on his knees, straddling Kurt by the waist, and holds the boy down by his arms.

"Would I be less of an idiot if I'd been tapping?" Blaine asks with a coy smile, and all Kurt can hear is Santana's voice in his head yelling he should be tapping that.

"Would you like it if I was your Adam Garcia?" Blaine purrs, starring him in the eyes. Kurt isn't able to look away, and isn't sure if he wants to either. He tries to swallow. Once more.

"What, do you want me to be your Adam Lambert?" Kurt whispers hoarsely, wondering what they really are talking about.

"Nooo," Blaine whispers, singing the vowel in a long, low note.

He looks so serious now, and there's something in his eyes Kurt isn't able to quite identify. Is it… fear?

"I think I'd prefer it if you'd be…"

"Guys, it's movie time!" Nick interrupts as he bursts through the door. Kurt gives him his best bitch glare and strongly considers ramming Blaine's laptop on Nick's head. What was Blaine about to say?

Blaine lets go of Kurt's arms and steps out of the bed. Kurt sits up as well; feeling cheated for something big, like a kid being promised a free gorge in the candy store just to discover the shop is permanently closed.

"What did you say, Nick?" Blaine asks, and he seems tired and sad.

"Movie time in the common's room," Nick answers, looking as if he's catching up on the fact he walked in on something. He looks questioningly at Kurt, who slowly shakes his head. "It's the last Adam Sandler movie, if you're interested," he says and hurriedly leaves the room.

"We might as well join the guys," Kurt says, crawling out of the bed. Of course it's an Adam-movie.

"Yeah…" Blaine runs his hands through his hair, staring at the empty bed.

Their moment is gone.

* * *

The movie is quite entertaining, although Kurt is a bit hesitant to enjoy it. It's an animated Dracula story which hasn't been released yet, but somehow one of the boys had found and downloaded it. Kurt doesn't ask, he doesn't want to know, he hardly wants to watch it.

Blaine is sitting next to him, slumped down in his seat. He looks sad and tired. A part of Kurt wants to ask, another part of him is afraid of what he'll hear. He takes a deep breath, and carefully drapes his arm around Blaine's shoulder. Blaine's always been a tactile person, and Kurt is getting more used to the safety Dalton provides, so he can be too. He knows by now that Blaine gets comfort from being close to someone, so Kurt will give him that. It's not as if their friends aren't used to see them cuddle. These movie nights often bring out the cuddle monster in several of the boys. Still Kurt feels hesitant to be the one initiating anything.

Blaine snuggles into Kurt's shoulder, and curls up with his legs under his body. One arm is resting across Kurt's stomach, and Blaine's fingers are drawing some whimsical pattern on his side. It tickles, in a good way. Kurt's other hand rests on Blaine's elbow, his thumb rubbing unconsciously.

Blaine's fingers eventually still, and he slumps a bit down from Kurt's shoulder. Kurt watches the sleeping Blaine, and his heart aches for his best friend. He looks so peaceful, breathing deeply, chest raising and lowering slowly. His lips are slightly parted, and Kurt just wants to lean down and taste them.

This friendship may be the best and worst thing that ever happened to Kurt.

* * *

Over the weekend, Jeff stops Kurt in the hallway between two classes.

"Kurt, do you have two minutes?"

"Yeah, I think I even may have three," he smiles.

"I was wondering if you and Blaine are free tomorrow night?"

Kurt blushes at the question. Sometimes their friends will talk about or to them as if they are a couple. For instance giving one some information, expecting it to be passed on to the other. Or inviting one, but expecting both to come, as they do with Nick and Jeff.

"You'll have to ask Blaine yourself, but I don't have any plans," Kurt answers stubbornly. He refuses to be some messenger boy for Blaine. Mostly because it hurts to do couply things to a boy he isn't in a relationship with.

"What, are you fighting or something?"

"No, but I'm not his secretary," Kurt says, trying not to be angry. His issues with Blaine aren't Jeff's fault. Things are busy with Regionals crawling closer, and Kurt hasn't had time to consider what he should do with the whole Blaine deal, and most certainly no time to talk with said boy about it.

Jeff looks at him sternly, making it difficult for Kurt to breathe, not to mention move.

"Meet up at the parking lot tomorrow after classes?" he finally shrugs. "It'll be a low key, fun night with us, Wes and David," he explains.

"Sounds great," Kurt says eagerly as they depart for their respective classes.

"Oh, and Kurt?" Jeff shouts from the hallway, getting some disapproving glares, because one does behave in Dalton hallways. "No uniforms, okay?"

Kurt's thrilling laughter is all the affirmation Jeff needs. Why on earth would Kurt show up in uniform if he doesn't have to?

* * *

Kurt has never spent less time changing from one outfit to another. Of course he had prepared the night before, planning his outfit for their outing. Jeff had described it as low key, so Kurt assumed he didn't have to go all out, but he still wanted to look nice. He chose black pants, because black can take you anywhere. He's let his love for colour show on his torso, though, but is wearing layers who melt into a fabulous whole, but he can also easily rearrange and remove layers if he feels over- or underdressed wherever they end up.

They split up in two cars. Jeff and Nick in Nick's car, claiming lover's privacy. That's all it takes for Wes and David to jump into Kurt's Navigator. Nick leads on, and they drive for almost an hour before stopping at a big parking lot.

Kurt studies the buildings in front of them, wondering what's planned for the evening. They get out of the car, and Jeff is bouncing ecstatically around Nick, making Wes and David grin. The four skip towards the entrance of one building which stands out in the busy street. Tacky, is Kurt's first thought, and his breath catches. He frowns at the sight of the blinking neon signs in the windows and above the door, the old beer slogans, the tired exterior, and he can only imagine how the interior is. He's about to express his distaste, but Blaine quickly grabs him and pulls him back to the Navigator. He gently, but firmly, pushes him against the car, out of sight from the others.

"Kurt, I know how pathetic and unnecessary you think this is, I know you think it's almost insulting when real music is so much better, I know you cringe from the though of listening to drunken tone deaf wannabe's, and I know you've sworn you'll never enter a karaoke stage. But this is really, really important to Nick, so please play along and help us give him a nice night, okay?

Kurt swallows his words with difficulty. He has great trouble imagining this being Nick's favoured stage for an evening out. Why are they here? Why is this important to Nick? Why aren't they somewhere more classy? And what is so good with karaoke anyway? Blaine obviously sees all the questions in Kurt's eyes.

"It isn't my story to tell, Kurt, but please help us give Nick the best night he can ask for. This place is safe for us. The owner is gay, and has some kind of soft spot for Nick – and not in a creepy, dirty way. We won't get in trouble for having fun and enjoying ourselves here." Blaine is pleading with his words and his eyes, and it's easy to see the sincerity. Kurt still doesn't understand, but if this is important for his friends he'll do his best.

He quickly touches Blaine's shoulder reassuringly, not feeling brave enough to do anything more in public when the public looks a bit back-alley-dodgy-skanky-filthy-repulsive.

"Let's go, Blaine. We don't want to risk them stealing the best songs from us, do we?" he smirks, and he may be swaying his hips a tad extra as he leaves Blaine, to show he's all game. Blaine's relieved laughter fills his ears like sweet music, and the boy catches up with him, gently bumping his hip with his own, and together they stumble through the door.

The interior of the place is a pleasant surprise to Kurt. He expected something dirty and worn down. It's neither. It isn't up to date, but it's okay. The other boys have settled down in a booth made of a three quarter of a circle couch in a deep red velvet fabric. Kurt and Blaine manage to squeeze down with the boys, without it feeling too crowded. It's only six o' clock, so still early, and the bar is only half full.

"Give it an hour, and this place will be brimmed with people," Wes says to Kurt. "It's competition day, so that always lures in a big crowd. The winner gets a gift certificate for ten beers, after all."

"Competition?"

"Yeah, once a month is competition day, but that's not why we are here. We just want to make March 20th a fun day, and it happened to be on competition day," David explains. For some reason, Kurt believes him. He wonders why it's important to be here on this date, though. It has to be really important to make David and Wes to cancel today's Warblers' rehearsal merely three days before Regionals.

"But are we even allowed to be here?" Kurt asks, looking over at the well stocked bar.

"As long as we don't try to buy any of the alcohol, it'll be fine. The owner knows us," Blaine reassures. "I'm going to the bar anyway, do you want anything?"

"A diet coke would be nice, if they have. Or whatever, you know what I drink," Kurt says and pulls out some money from his pocket.

"Don't even bother, dummy, it's on me," Blaine says and sashays out of the booth and across the floor. He's wearing a particularly nice pair of pants today, which accentuates his body in all the right places. He's leaning at the bar, one foot on the foot rest, making his pants tighten even more around his cute butt, and Kurt could really use that drink now for his dry throat.

"It isn't polite to stare," Nick whispers laughingly in his ears, and breaks the spell.

"What? No, I wasn't… I tried to see if… if they have nuts," Kurt splutters.

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd like some nuts," Nick snickers.

"So, singing, anyone going to sing tonight?" Kurt rambles and studies the binder with the song options maniacally.

Blaine brings back a tray with mineral water for all six boys, and a box of assorted nuts-mix that makes Nick giggle loudly, Kurt blush, and Blaine looking confused.

"Did I forget about any allergies?"

"I don't know what their issues are, man, but let them laugh it out. We're here to enjoy ourselves, aren't we?" David shrugs, preparing a note for the DJ with his song selection.

* * *

They're half way down their second round of dark liquid, and that would have sounded so much more grown-up if they weren't drinking various versions of mineral water. But they're having a good time, gossiping like only boarding student can, laughing and teasing each other the way only really good friends can allow themselves to do and get away with without trouble.

The DJ is jogging across the stage, setting up the microphones, testing the sound, adjusting the spotlights and otherwise preparing tonight's show. Nick looks solemnly at the elderly man bouncing around with a big beer belly, a clipboard and a headset through which he mumbles directions to a young lanky guy by the mixing table in the far end of the room.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," Nick says calmly, as if he's controlling his voice and emotions. "It means a lot to me. It's been two years to this day since I transferred to Dalton, to begin a new and better life."

Kurt remembers Nick mentioning he came to Dalton with a broken collar bone and a raging hate directed towards his old school, and then some anger issues that lead him and Jeff together to use sex as an outlet for Nick's pent up frustration and despair. Kurt assumes they went here last year to think about something else than whatever happened to physically harm Nick. He's honoured to be included in this important day this year.

"To better memories," Nick proposes, raising his glass in the air

"Hear, hear," the other boys reply, downing their diet cokes, iced teas and seven ups.

David gets up to buy them the next round, and Kurt twirls his empty glass around on the coaster. Thinking about Nick's background reminds Kurt about the bullying at McKinley, and of course, he can't help but think about Blaine's Sadie Hawkins-dance. It simply isn't fair.

* * *

Blaine can sense a change in Kurt after Nick's short, but heartfelt speech. It's as if he's withdrawn, left his body with them but disappeared mentally. He's twirling his glass in an endless loop, but his mind seems to be somewhere else entirely.

He isn't sure if Kurt knows about Nick's background, although it wouldn't surprise him considering how much time they spend together and how close they've become. Which Blaine is glad to see, he wants Kurt to make friends and have a good time at Dalton. He deserves it after everything that went down at McKinley.

And come to think about it, he has that far off expression he sometimes wore at the Lima Bean when they met up for coffee after a particularly rough day in school. It was always difficult to make Kurt spill what happened, and it was as if he was replaying it scene by scene in his mind, before either telling Blaine or just brushing it off, steering the conversation towards something much more enjoyable, and giving Blaine his brilliant smile and thrilling laughter. Blaine never forced him to share anything, he was more than willing to lend an ear, but he was also happy to be a distraction and offer conversation and a coffee if that was what Kurt wanted.

Blaine scoots somewhat closer, but they're already sitting pretty close in the booth. It's probably designed for four grown ups, and not six slim teenagers. He snakes his arm around Kurt's waist, holding the boy firmly and confidently, but hating himself for his devious eyes quickly darting around the room to see if anyone will notice them. Kurt startles at once, but immediately melts into Blaine's embrace, and it warms Blaine. To hell with it, he thinks. The owner is gay, they are here to celebrate freedom and happiness, and isn't it about time that Blaine grows a pair? With a rapid beating heart, he lowers his head and awkwardly hugs Kurt's shoulder, and flushes when the other boy leans his head on top of Blaine's for a moment.

Finally the DJ announces the opening number; a huge, sweaty man with six o'clock shadow, a bald head and a white shirt with yellow stains under his arms belting out _My Heart Will Go On_.

Kurt can't help but cringe, and it doesn't go unnoticed among his friends. Wes laughs openly at him, Nick wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, and Jeff leans in front of his boyfriend, arms outstretched as if he was flying.

"You just wait; it gets better," Blaine leans in and whispers teasingly, his breath tickling Kurt and goose bumps popping up along his left arm.

Kurt just scoffs, and Blaine lays his other arm across Kurt's chest, folding his hands together and holding the boy firmly.

"By the end of the night I'll have you admit to loving this place!" he grins. He enjoys watching Kurt squirm, exaggerating his distaste to amuse his friends, but more importantly Blaine enjoys having Kurt in his arms, even though the embrace is somewhat uncomfortable. Reluctantly, he lets go with his right arm, but keeps his left arm around Kurt's back.

Blaine catches Wes' searching look, and he'd thought their friends would be used to see Kurt and him cuddle by now. But there's something in Wes' eyes. Sadness, but also hopefulness, maybe encouragement. Blaine knows his friends are waiting for him to make the finale move, to ask Kurt to be his boyfriend. And he wants to; he's been so close a couple of times, but either chickened out or been interrupted. He's just not all that confident about his ability to be a boyfriend yet, and doesn't want to risk their friendship by being a lousy boyfriend. One thing is being terrible at romance, but he still is wary of being open in the public, he's still hesitant and fearful of the surroundings' reactions.

He inhales and exhales deeply, slowly, and runs his hand up along Kurt's arm to rest on his shoulder. The boy shifts somewhat, and Blaine worries he's overstepped, but Kurt simply adjusts in the seat to sit more comfortably in Blaine's arm. Blaine can feel Kurt's warmth seeping through his clothes and onto his own body. His cheeks are burning and his heart is on a gallop, but he turns his head to smile at the boy anyway. Kurt smiles brightly back at him, rosy cheeks and shining eyes. But it's the ice crystal-brooch he gave Kurt for Valentine's Day that catches the red, green and blue light from the cascading spotlights above the stage.

Wes and David are called to the stage, and Blaine chuckles. Their duets tend to be legendary. Their intro is played, and Kurt tenses in recognition. He buries his face in Blaine's chest to stifle some of his laughter. Jeff has opened one of the packages of complimentary matches from the bar, making a tiny candle for the two boys on stage.

"_They say we're young and we don't know, We won't find out until we grow_," Wes sings with theatricality.

"_Well I don't know if all that's true, 'Cause you got me, and baby I got you_," David's deep baritone fills the room, singing passionately and dipping into an opera version of the song.

They round up the song to loud whistles and applause, and delicately curtsey before skipping down from the stage back to their friends. They are met with high fives as they sit down by their table. Kurt offers to buy their next round, and gets up after taking their orders. As soon as the boy's out of hearing, Wes leans forward, verbally attacking Blaine.

"What are you singing tonight, Blainers?" he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

"Why are you asking?" Blaine asks suspiciously. They didn't reveal their song selections last year, agreeing to make their performances a surprise. What's different today?

"Aren't you going to serenade Kurt tonight?" Wes grins, earning enthusiastic sounds of agreement from the other three boys.

"No," Blaine says firmly, "I have not planned any such thing."

The boys boo.

"When are you going to pull your head out of your ass, Blaine?" Wes asks seriously.

"I… It's…" he huffs, feeling annoyed, because Wes _knows_ why this is difficult for Blaine, and he doesn't understand the change of heart and lack of understanding now. "I'm still thinking about a plan to woo him," he says, because the boys are expecting an explanation.

"I'm pretty sure Kurt is sufficiently wooed," Nick says not unkindly.

Because Wes and David can be as subtle as an elephant with a Ming-vase, they lean back abruptly when they notice Kurt approaching, waving at Blaine and Nick.

"Quick! Talk about something else!" they whisper loudly.

Kurt looks questioningly at all of them, but quietly hands out their glasses, before elegantly sliding into his seat next to Blaine.

"Care to share?"

"What are you talking about?" Wes wonders innocently, whistling and looking anywhere but at Kurt. "Just kidding, Kurt, we're just pulling your leg," he teases.

Kurt doesn't look convinced, but lets it be, and luckily for everybody Jeff is called to stage then.

"This is for you, babe," he says, quickly kissing Nick before he gets up for his contribution.

Nick is sitting ramrod straight, looking transfixed on his boyfriend, hardly blinking to not miss out on anything he sings or does. Blaine smiles fondly at the boy. It's marvellous to see how much Nick has changed since they first met, and a part of Blaine has to admit he's still jealous of the ease Nick meets the world. He's left all fears behind, walking proudly and unapologetically. Blaine knows he could have what Nick and Jeff have. If only…

"_I know the battles of chasing the shadows of who you wanna be. It doesn't matter, go on and shatter. I'm all you need_," Jeff sings softly, his eyes never leaving Nick's.

Nick seems touched, and David lays a gentle hand on his shoulder to show his support. They all know some or more of what Nick's been through, and they know what this day means to him. This is to support him.

"_Broken pieces, break into me. So imperfectly what you should be. Lay here, it's safe here, I'll let you be broken open. Hide here, confide here so we can be broken open._"

Blaine slides his hand across the seat where Jeff sat, and offers Nick his hand. Nick grips it, clutching to it like a piece of drift wood in an otherwise empty raging ocean storm.

Jeff strides determinedly back to their table, cheers and applause following him, and Wes and David step out of their booth to let him in. Nick stands up, and when Jeff is in front of him he firmly cups his cheeks with both hands, and plants a kiss on Jeff's lips. His boyfriend grips him by the shoulders.

"Thank you," he whispers into the other boy's mouth. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jeff says thickly, kissing his boyfriend without paying any attention to their surroundings.

Blaine does, however, both to avoid ogling his close friends' semi-private moment, and to make sure none of the patrons are looking like they may give them a hard time later on. Some are looking in their direction, but their gazes are mostly curious, some even approving. Most of the people are focused on the performance on stage, though, or immersed in their own conversations.

A group of giggling girls is performing _Girls Just Want To Have Fun_, and they sure have fun, but they really aren't singers. Blaine can't help smile at them, though, they are kind of cute. He glances over at Kurt, and smiles even more – the boy is without doubt repulsed by them.

"Don't look so appreciative, they might think you want to befriend them," he whispers in Kurt's ear.

"If I have to listen to more of this, I'll lose my pitch," Kurt snorts.

"I can't wait to get up there and perform, so you can give me your scatching review," Blaine hums.

"As if those donkey voices and you can ever be compared," Kurt scoffs.

"Is that the best compliment you can give me? Being better than asses?"

"Take it or leave it," Kurt smirks.

Their voices have grown somewhat louder, so their friends can hear them better over the karaoke participants.

"Why is Blaine better than an ass? Doesn't Blaine _have_ an ass?" Jeff asks confused.

"The acclaimed musical critique Mr. Hummel granted us with his opinions on current performance," Blaine smiles serenely, knowing he's mocking Kurt. But it's such fun!

"And what is your ass competing in, Blaine?" Wes smirks, his eyes darting between Kurt and him.

The DJ announces Blaine as next performer, and he jumps up from his seat, sliding past Kurt.

"I'm bootylicious," he giggles, wiggling his tush as he leaves them for the stage.

* * *

Kurt isn't particularly surprised to hear Blaine's chosen a disco tune. After seeing his room, he knows it's his guilty pleasure. But he also knows Blaine's taste in music is diverse and still expanding as he discovers new bands and tunes. He's more than bubblegum pop and disco. Blaine really is the kind of guy who loves all kinds of music. The last time Kurt sat in his car, he was playing Rolling Stones, and two nights ago they had been doing homework together while Mozart played for them through Blaine's iPod speakers.

"_My baby moves at midnight, Goes right on till the dawn. My fella' takes me higher. My fella' keeps me warm._"

"Did he just…?" he startles, looking at Nick.

"I think so."

"_He's juicy and he's trouble. He gets it to me good. My fella' gives me power. Goes right down to my blood._"

"He did change the lyrics," Kurt breathes. That's a pretty public declaration of his sexuality, not really what Kurt would expect from Blaine.

What he does expect, though, is Blaine putting on a show, enjoying himself and having the audience eating from the palm of his hand. Kurt can only smile widely at the sight of Blaine crooning the song, making the cutest dance moves, and even a split hop earning him a breathy _ooh_ from the crowd. Kurt tries to imagine a beaten down Blaine retreated into himself, and it's difficult when Blaine looks so happy and vibrantly alive now. But when he looks carefully, he can sometimes still see traces of the aftermaths.

"He's good, right?" Nick whispers knowingly next to him.

"Say what you want about disco, but he sure knows how to move his body," Kurt agrees silently.

Blaine hasn't been standing still for even a second, and is killing the performance, even making some of the patrons stand up to dance. Of course Blaine can't help being Blaine, and takes a step from the stage to stand on one of the nearby tables, feet twisting among their beer glasses, making a group of girls flailing and giggling at him. His falsetto gives Kurt shivers, and he's simply mesmerized by the performance. He recognizes some of the steps from when he went home to Blaine's place the first time to swim, but it doesn't make him less enjoyable to watch.

Blaine skips happily back to them, heaving for air and his chest rising visibly for each inhale. He's given his all for this, but his eyes radiate joy. He stays standing by their table while catching his breath, absentmindedly accepting the praise from his friends and the nearby tables. He seems to be searching Kurt's face for a reaction, though. Their eyes lock, none of them blinking. He licks his lips, panting, and leans in closer to Kurt, smiling slyly.

"Was that sufficiently Adam Garcia for you, Elphaba?" he teases, but there's a trace of hesitation in his eyes.

"I'd say that was a pretty hot performance," Kurt admits, wondering if his face is on fire.

He can hear the other boys snickering around the table, and Blaine slides in next to him, not breaking eye contact. Blaine's adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he opens his mouth to say something, when the DJ calls Kurt to stage. Kurt sighs, but squeezes past Blaine. Blaine stops him by grabbing his hand.

"Knock 'em dead," he says softly, no trace of teasing or flirting left, just an honest encouragement from a good friend.

Kurt walks determinedly to the stage. As soon as he understood why they were here, he knew which song he'd have to sing. It was for Nick, for Blaine, and for him.

* * *

Blaine watches as Kurt waits, his eyes closed and chin resting on his chest while the intro is played. He looks so focused, so intense, so serious. Blaine had been having fun making guesses for himself about what Kurt would sing, and he hadn't been even remotely close. As soon as he heard the familiar guitar intro, he recognized it, and knew he would be witnessing something spectacular; he couldn't wait to hear Kurt sing this song.

"_You shout it loud, but I can't hear a word you say. I'm talking loud, not saying much. I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet. You shoot me down, but I get up._"

There's fire in Kurt's eyes, and he looks fierce, almost frightening with his clenched jaw and determined eyes. This is more than just a song.

"_I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away. Ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away. You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium. You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium._"

Blaine literally shivers with goose bumps, and has to blink several times to brace himself. He swallows dryly, listening to Kurt hit that last high note. Kurt is still for a moment after the music has ended, and there's a lot of hollers and applause for him. Kurt acknowledges them timidly, before stepping down. He walks stiffly from the stage, crosses the room, passes their table, and disappears out. Blaine watches him leave the building.

"Excuse me, guys, I'll just…" Blaine says, gesturing at where Kurt disappeared.

"Of course," one of them answers, but Blaine has already left the table.

It's dark outside, and Blaine can't see the familiar coiff or the silhouette of his friend. Neither Kurt nor Blaine knows this area, so Blaine makes a guess and walks towards the Navigator. Luckily, he finds Kurt leaned against the back of the car, one knee bent and foot resting on the bumper. His arms are wrapped tightly around him, and silent tears are trickling down his cheeks. Blaine quickens his steps when he finds him, and soon after Kurt is wrapped up in his arms.

"I'm sorry," Kurt sobs.

"Ssh, it's okay, you don't have to apologize for anything."

"It's…"

Blaine shushes him gently, holding him tighter with one arm, the other running slowly up and down his back. Kurt's arms are trapped between their chests. Even though Kurt is slightly taller, he's still tucked his head under Blaine's chin, and an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness flows through his veins.

It doesn't take long for Kurt to collect himself, and uncurl from Blaine's hug. He dries his eyes with the back of his hands.

"I'm just really tired," he sighs. "And there are too many memories tonight."

Blaine maintains a loose hold with his arms around Kurt's waist, and the other boy loops his own around Blaine's neck. A tiny part of Blaine wants to lean in and kiss the boy, but now is not the moment. He doesn't want to give Kurt yet another forced kiss, and he doesn't want to kiss him while he's thinking about bullying and haunting memories. He wants it to be special in all the best ways. And he needs some more courage to be able to go through with it. In the meantime he does what he is able to, and holds the boy.

The late March-night is chilly, and they both shiver, with their coats back in the bar.

"Do you want to go back to Dalton? I can go back and get our stuff."

Kurt shakes his head and loosens his hold on the boy.

"No, I've ruined enough of the night for Nick. Let's go back inside and be good friends," he pleads while drying off his tears

"You haven't ruined anything," he tries to assure him, but Kurt doesn't look convinced. Blaine takes his hand and tugs for him to follow.

They get inside in time to see Nick grip the microphone in a classic rock pose, muttering out words with attitude and sass.

"_How dare you say that my behavior is unacceptable? So condescending unnecessarily critical. I have the tendency of getting very physical. So watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle."_

Nick is clearly enjoying his time on the stage, jumping around and panting through the chorus, flirting with the audience and selling his performance. Blaine and Kurt join the other guys, who are standing up head banging and cheering for Nick.

Nick struts confidently back to their table, and stops to kiss Kurt quickly on the forehead.

"Thank you, doll," he murmurs.

Blaine isn't sure what Nick is thanking Kurt for, exactly, but it doesn't matter, because Kurt seems to get it, and is smiling through moist eyes at his friend. Blaine thought he'd be jealous, but actually he's glad to see the friendship. His jealous strike only kicks in when Nick plants a wet, loud kiss on Jeff's lips. Blaine doesn't want Jeff. But he wants what they have.

* * *

**Lyrics from/songs mentioned:**

Adam Lambert – _For Your Entertainment  
_Adam Lambert – _Fever  
_Adam Garcia – _Night Fever  
_Céline Dion – _My Heart Will Go On  
_Sonny & Cher – _I Got You Babe  
_Adam Lambert – _Broken Open  
_Cyndi Lauper – _Girls Just Want to Have Fun  
_Bee Gees – _You Should Be Dancing  
_David Guetta ft. Sia – _Titanium  
_Maroon 5 – _Harder to Breathe_


	40. Regionals

**AN: So here it finally is, the dreaded chapter I accidentally deleted, and had to recreate from scratch. Such a dreadful job, I hope you appreciate the lenghts I go too for all of you! :D**

**Thank you for reviews and feedback, and sticking with me on this journey - it makes me all giddy and happy! And remember that every 100th, 200th, 300th, 400th reviewer can make a wish for this story I'll make come true unless it crashes devastatingly with my plot. I've also been known to make other wishes come true if there's anything you miss or want more of, and a lot of your feedback helps me improve my writing. So drop a note and share it if you have any thoughts!**

**But! I've only seen up to the episode Sadie Hawkins for season 4. I don't know and I don't want to know anything about what happens in the next episodes, so please keep me spoiler free.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, who's being even more of a Klaine-teaser than I am.**

* * *

The Council is made up of three ruthless bastards, who drive the Warblers further than far in their preparations for Regionals. It's as if Wes and David are making amends for the rehearsal they called off on Wednesday to give Nick his anniversary night out. Friday night Kurt is borderline limping back to his room, feeling sore and tired after the relentless rehearsal. He fears the Council is turning them into automatons. Their performance is timed down to nanoseconds, but still it feels completely off to Kurt. He's really dubious to what they're bringing to the table, but it's too late to do anything about it now. Unlike for New Directions, he doesn't believe the Warblers can pull off a new set list in merely hours. He cherishes impromptu singalongs during movie nights, and sometimes they _let loose_ and have fun with a song. But the Council would never allow taking such risks on stage, in respect of the composed Dalton reputation.

The competition stage is Kurt's old home arena, and he's thorn. It'll be nice to see his friends again. But everything else... Performing again in the April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, the all too familiar stage, with all its quirks, corners, rooms and lights will be like coming home. But he isn't coming home. He's just there to visit.

As if Blaine can sense his thoughts, he pats his knee from next to him in the bus seat.

"You okay?" he mouths, and Kurt assumes he must have looked more far-off than he knew.

"It's just…" he begins, speaking in a normal voice despite of Blaine's soundless question. "I'll be competing against my friends."

Blaine looks sincerely sympathetic to his situation.

"You want to win with us, and you want them to win," he says softly, trailing an absentminded finger in swirls on Kurt's left knee.

Kurt hums in agreement, worried his voice will betray him if he tries to speak when Blaine is touching him like that.

"Your friends are really good, but our set list isn't bad either," Blaine smiles, removing his hand to rub at the back of his neck, and Kurt wonders if he sounds a tiny bit dubious.

"We're really good too," Kurt says, leaning closer to touch Blaine's shoulder with his own.

"You're close; I know your friendships will survive no matter who's announced the winner this afternoon."

"I just want it all," Kurt smiles ruefully.

"Such a greedy boy," Blaine elbows him friendly, and Kurt pretends to almost fall out of the bus seat, making Blaine reach out for him, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him close, with a wink.

The swanky Dalton bus slows down and rolls across the parking lot closest to McKinley. Thad immediately steps up in front of the bus, bracing his hands on two poles to maintain balance. Wes is eagerly tripping in front of him, encouraging the bus driver to open the doors as soon as he stops.

Next to their high class bus are even more luxurious and intimidatingly shiny black Range Rovers. There are a dozen or more or them, generously sponsored by eager supporters of culture in Akron. Kurt remembers them from when Rachel was egged.

"Listen, guys. We have the stage for 20 minutes to coordinate light, sound and us. I want you to be ready, all warmed up bodily and vocally, in 45 minutes. I will follow you to our green room, while David registers in the secretary."

"And Wes will be busy making out with his girlfriend," Jeff giggles, as Wes ducks under Thad's outstretched arms, bolts out of the open door, and crosses half the parking lot before spotting Rachel. He slows down and walks nonchalantly in her direction, hands tucked deeply in his pockets and a bashful smile plastered to his face. The Warblers are hollering and cheering for him, but unfortunately Wes' too far away to hear them.

They follow the plan, 12 Warblers trailing after Thad to their designated room while curiously taking in their surroundings. Coach Sylvester must have recently let the girls out of practice, and a fair share of the Warblers salute the Cheerios, tipping their mock top hats.

Everything is so familiar, but still alien. There are hardly any changes in the hallways since Kurt transferred. Some new posters on the notice board, perhaps, and unfamiliar garlands, balloons, streamers and banners welcoming everybody to Regionals 2012. It's weird walking here, he feels like an intruder. Blaine is walking close to his side, his knuckles brushing against Kurt's, and when he looks up the boy is smiling sadly at him.

"Do you miss being here?" he asks lowly.

"No. Yes. I don't know," Kurt shrugs. He really doesn't know.

Thad leads them to his old English room. There they shed their coats and bags. All the desks have been stacked in the back of the room, to give them as much floor as possible. The chairs are placed in rows, and in expected McKinley flair they have been given five make up mirrors with lights, carefully leaning against the wall on top of five of the desks. A red refrigerator with white decorations is standing in the corner, with some of Sue Sylvester's trademark slogans for her Cheerios written in black. "_Never let anything distract you from winning. Ever,_" "_I can smell the stink of failure_," and "_If you think that was your best, you've already lost_". A black silhouette of Coach Sue and her megaphone covers the fridge door. Inside are water bottles, energy drinks and granola bars for them.

"…so that's why I'll have to ignore you, but when we're both done performing you can give me my victory kiss," Kurt can hear Rachel talking a mile a minute, her voice getting stronger as she's getting closer. She stops in the doorway, fingers interlaced with Wes'.

"Break a leg," she smiles softly, standing on her toes to kiss Wes. "You better do your best, I will not win because you chivalrously forfeits," she warns him.

"As if that'll happen," David snorts, disentangling his Council-partner from the tiny girlfriend.

"Hi Kurt!" she beams, waving eagerly between two thirds of the Council.

"Hi Rachel," he waves more soberly back, smiling at her. She hasn't changed a bit.

"Okay guys, we need to warm up," Thad shouts, clapping his hands to get their attention. David whistles shrilly, but the boys are still psyched from the girls in Cheerios-outfits bringing them a fruit basket.

"Warblers, do you mind?" Blaine asks politely, hardly raising his voice. The boys immediately obediently end their bickering and chatting, and are soon in formation.

* * *

They have an hour before they need to find their seats in the audience. They are the last to compete, so they'll get to see most of the performances. Some of the Warblers wander off to hunt down lunch or explore Lima, while some decide to stay at McKinley to chill or hunt down Cheerios.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asks when Kurt sheds his blazer and drapes it over a chair to avoid wrinkles.

"I'm going to see if I find my friends to wish them good luck."

Blaine smiles and waves him off, before continuing his conversation with Trent and Thad.

According to the program, New Directions are the first to perform, so Kurt decides to look for them backstage. Without thinking, his feet take him the familiar route to the auditorium. As soon as he opens the side door and slips inside, a flood of memories overwhelms him, rendering him breathless. The Warblers used the audience entrance for their sound check, but this is the door New Directions most often use. He can't count how many times he's been standing in the sides, waiting for his queue to enter the stage, or they've been helping each other with costumes and make up. He became the unchallenged champion of false lashes, and has helped every single female Glee member gluing on the slippery little buggers.

Hidden behind the curtains, Kurt watches the now decorated scene. It looks elegant and discreet, no screaming decorations to steal the attention away from the show choirs.

"Is it good to be back?" a very familiar voice asks from next to him, and his brother wraps an arm around Kurt's shoulders, pulling him tight for a sideways hug.

"I don't know yet."

"You're having a good time at Dalton, aren't you?" Finn sounds as if he already knows the answer, no curiosity, but no blaming him either. It wasn't easy for his friends when he out of nowhere transferred, leaving them a member short for Sectionals and at the same time gobsmacking them with the knowledge about how bad the bullying really was.

"I really, really do. But I miss you guys too."

"I'm glad. It's good to be missed," Finn grins teasingly.

Kurt hip bumps him, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, the rest of us are over there," Finn says, throwing his head in an unidentified direction.

Finn leads him with his arm still wrapped around his shoulder further back among curtains, backdrops and props.

"Guys! Look who I found!" he shouts, getting the attention of every single of his team member.

Soon Kurt finds himself in the bottom of a human pile, and he's so, so glad he shed the blazer in his old English room.

"Guys, I don't have any solos, so kill another Warbler if you're that desperate to win," he groans with an elbow in his lower back, a hand disturbingly low on his stomach, and a foot on his neck.

His crazy friends help him up from the probably dirty floors, and he makes a number of brushing every single speck of dust off his clothes.

"It's so good to see you again, boo," Mercedes says, giving him a tamer and safer hug.

They catch up as good as they can, standing crowded behind the curtains. They ignore the rapidly unavoidable topic of Regionals, and instead focus on gossip that doesn't involve any of them, and harmless news. Kurt knows he'll get more _substantial_ news if he talks with one of his girls later.

"Kurt, there you are! Wes is flipping, and wants us to find our seats stat," Blaine interrupts – and Wes must really be in frenzy if he's making the prototype of Polite burst into their conversation like that.

"Already? What time is it even?" Kurt can't believe an hour is already up.

Blaine takes out his beloved pocket watch.

"Ten past Wes' curfew," Blaine explains, shaking his head at the thought of their dictatorial friend. "I brought your blazer," he adds, holding it out for him, and Kurt turns his back to him to slip his arms down the sleeves. He turns around again while buttoning, and Blaine automatically adjusts the lapels.

"What happened to your tie?" he laughs, straightening it and tightening the knot.

"Some friends are so glad to see me they almost rip my clothes off," Kurt smirks. Behind Blaine, he can see Mercedes and Tina giggling, gesturing at him and mouthing something he can't understand, because he really isn't a lip reader, but he makes a lucky guess he'll prefer they stay silent.

"Break a leg, guys! May the best team win!"

"Oh, it will!" his friends shout after him as Blaine leads him out with a hand on Kurt's lower back.

"_Merde_!" he can hear Rachel call gleefully.

* * *

Blaine and Kurt slide down their seats, with Wes looking disapprovingly at them, just as the MC welcomes them all to the annual Regional show choir competition, and then presents the judges. As the host of the evening, New Directions are announced the first performer.

When the curtains are pulled aside, Rachel is standing in the middle of the stage, one hand resting on her hip cocked dramatically. She's wearing a wireless head mic and a Betsey Johnson-dress Kurt recognizes from one of the latest Vogues. Somehow, New Directions must have been able to stick their straw into Coach Sue's pot of gold. It's a beautiful creation, white fading into grey and black nuances, all tulle and chiffon. With black leggings and ankle straps, it's a stunning, but appropriate costume.

Beside her, Finn is pierced behind a drum set, and Artie is holding an electric guitar. Mike, Sam and Puck are standing by a microphone stand each, spread evenly out on the stage. The rest of the girls are split up in two groups, flanking the stage and obviously merely being choir girls for this number.

Finn drums a beat, Artie adding the guitar, and the girls are ooh'ing and aah'ing.

"_Everybody look at me, me,_" Rachel croons, swaying her hips, and shoulders firmly straightened out to pop out her chest as she dances around the three boys standing with their microphones.

"_Move your body around like a nympho_," she sings, sliding down along Puck's body. "_I wanna see you all on your knees, knees. You either want to be with me, or be me._"

The girls back her up on the chorus, while she drapes herself on Mike's body.

"_Man eater, make you work hard, Make you spend hard, Make you want all of her love._"

"_When she asks for something, boy, she means it. Even if you never, ever, ever seen it_." She's dancing far more risqué than she's ever done, and Kurt feels somewhat uncomfortable. This isn't like Rachel at all; what are they doing?

They repeat the chorus twice, and Rachel is all over the stage, showing off and flirting shamelessly and physically with all the boys.

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief. He'd expect this from anyone but her. Sure, they have a tradition for a wide range of genre and style in New Directions, but Rachel usually is so much more _wholesome_. Something has tipped Rachel off balance.

As the last tones fade away, the girls leave the stage. Usually they'd do a big group number now, but it seems as if the boys are in focus this time, Kurt notices. Finn and Artie remain by their instruments, and Kurt grins smugly – he could bet anything Finn is clutching those drumsticks to hide how bad he is at dancing. They're wearing black fitted suit pants and black shirts in a shimmering material, with grey ties to match the girls' dresses.

Puck is obviously the lead on this song.

"_Lay where you're laying, don't make a sound_," he sings, backed up with harmonies and repeats from Sam and Mike.

"_You, your sex is on fire!_"

Puck rips loose the microphone from the stand, and struts all over the stage, winking at female members of the audience, putting on a swagger and a show, selling his all. Mike and Sam are doing body rolls while moaning about sex on fire.

"_Hot as a fever, rattling bones. I could just taste it, taste it. If it's not forever, if it's just tonight, Oh, it's still the greatest, the greatest, the greatest_," Puck shares with a hoarse and passionate voice. If only he was gay, Kurt muses, rather enjoying the show. Puck's never been given this kind of centre spot in any of their performances before, and he is for sure a talented lead they should use more often. And he really, really is suited for this kind of song.

"_And you, your sex is on fire! Consumed with what's to transpire._"

Several members of the audience are quick on their feet to give the boys a standing ovation, even though they aren't through their set list, and the applause is rich. Puck grins and waves as he leaves the stage with the boys. Two black clad stage monkeys hurry across to remove the drum set and two of the microphone stands.

Kurt expects Rachel to croon through one of her power ballads as their finale number.

Standing front centre on the stage, folding her long fingers around a microphone, eyes locked determined somewhere out in the audience, is Santana, though.

Behind her, Mike and Brittany take position far apart on the stage, Brittany looking away from him.

The simple melody with guitar and drums begin, and shivers run down Kurt's spine.

"_I know you're home_," Santana sings softly, using her lower and less used register.

Mike dances behind her, moving fluently, carefully, but determinedly approaching Brittany. Brittany twirls, leaps, lets Mike come closer, but disappears at the last moment right before Mike can embrace her. Their moves remind Kurt of the most lyrical and poetic numbers from _So You Think You Can Dance_. This is the most breathtaking Kurt's ever seen them.

"_I want to come over! To hell with the consequence. You told me you loved me, That's all I believe. I want to come over! It's a need I can't explain, To see you again. I want to come over!_"

There's a despair and urgency in Santana's voice, and as she ploughs through the chorus, Kurt is covered in goose bumps.

"Oh my God," he whispers, grabbing his neighbour's hand. Blaine squeezes back.

"_How can you turn? Denying the fire? Lover I burn, Let me in!_"

Santana clutches her fist, holding it against her heart. She hardly moves, but she's vibrating all over the stage.

Kurt knows his friends. He _knows_ how New Directions works. They don't choose a song because they can make it sound good – they make a song sound good because they chose it. Whenever someone feels, they sing about it. Whenever someone has something to say, they sing it. When anything happens, they sing about it. There's never anything random about New Directions, and that's what makes their performances so powerful. They don't rehearse them to death, and they always pour their crazy emotions in it. You can always trust a New Direction-performance to be honest and pure, even though it may have been put together ten minutes prior to curtains.

Santana dives into the chorus with heart and soul, and Kurt wouldn't be surprised to find tears in her eyes if he was sitting close enough to see. Brittany and Mike are dancing heartbreakingly behind her, but it's Brittany that Santana is glancing at when she belts _to hell with the consequence_.

Blaine's interlaced his fingers with Kurt, but Kurt doesn't notice.

Something is not right at McKinley.

Every single member of the audience seems to be on their feet, except for Kurt. He's devastatingly floored. It isn't until Blaine touches his shoulder, looking worried, he snaps out of it and leaps up, joining the well deserved and eager applause. Blaine still looks at him with concern, and Kurt shakes his head minutely.

Next on stage, the MC announces, from Carmel High, Vocal Adrenaline.

A rich voice demanding attention sings, only a vague silhouette visible on the otherwise dark stage, and it's both the voice and the number that turns Kurt's skin into gooseflesh, yet again.

"Oh my God," Blaine whispers in awe next to him.

"_Underneath the city lights, There is a world few know about. Where rules don't apply, no. And you can't keep a good girl down._"

All spotlights are directed towards her, revealing a curvy girl in a silver sequined mid-thigh dress and a dark bob. As the brass band plays, the spotlights light up the entire stage, and 11 girls in similar, but shorter, dresses are dancing and backing her up.

"_Hit it up, get it up, won't let you rest. Hit it up, get it up, this is not a test. Hit it up, get it up, gotta give me your best. So get your ass up, show me how you Burlesque._"

11 boys in black pants and nothing but silver blue vests and dark blue ties come running onto stage, standing tall as props for the girls except the lead to dance with.

"_A little bit of naughty is a little bit nice. She's a whole lot of glam, sweat, sugar, sex, spice. Just shimmy, shimmy, strut, strut, give a little what, what. Up on the tables, we'll be dancing all night._"

Their lead has plenty of charisma and stage presence, and her voice is killing the song.

Wes is swearing something really undapperly on Kurt's other side.

"That's Unique," he groans.

"I know!" Kurt whispers back. "I've never heard a voice like that."

"No, I mean, that's Vocal Adrenaline's secret weapon, Wade slash Unique."

Kurt's lips form a soundless oh. The Council is at all times updated on the latest show choir-news in the blogosphere, and praises for a Unique performer had been murmured in the Glee grapevine after she performed _Boogie Shoes_ for Sectionals.

As Unique receives her well deserved standing ovation, the Warblers leave the audience to get ready behind stage. They are in a soundproof room, to be able to do some last warm ups without interfering anyone, but it also means they don't know the rest of Vocal Adrenaline's set list.

David gives them a heartfelt and honest pep talk, reminding them to give their best and not let the other performances intimidate them.

"Being an a cappella group we bring something unique to the table in our own right. Let's go and show those judges how young gentlemen do it!"

They've worked hard on their harmonies, and Kurt knows that Blaine gets a kick out of singing a song that explicitly says it's for the boys – and last night he had revealed he now felt bold enough to sing it without being afraid of retaliation. And it's not a secret that Blaine has a knack for killing songs originally sung by women. But even though they managed to do _Promiscuous_ for the Valentine's party without making complete asses of themselves, Kurt's seen how uncomfortable Blaine sometimes looks while trying to wrap all the lyrics into the rap. And he also knows that Blaine has enough showmanship to put on a face and fake it if he can't make it. But Kurt can feel it when Blaine doesn't completely believe his own performance, and he suspects that maybe the judges will too.

Their harmonies sound perfect as they open their mouths on stage, and Kurt has a second to curse the stubborn Council for not considering other leads instead of putting all their trust in Blaine for Sectionals. Kurt's convinced Nick would do this so much better. And while he's at it – where they high when they composed their set list?

"_This one is for the boys with the boomin' system. Top down, AC with the coolin' system. When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up. Got stacks on deck like he savin' up_," Blaine delivers with a flourish, skipping across the entire stage to woo the audience and hopefully the judges too. He's making faces, playing cool, but Kurt can see behind his game face. This is only 99 per cent.

"_I said, excuse me you're a hell of a guy. I mean my, my, my, my, you're like pelican fly. I mean, you're so shy and I'm loving your tie. You're like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye, oh_." It's obvious that Blaine is having fun with the lyrics, and as he runs among the Warblers, he briefly stops in front of Kurt, pulling at his tie and winks, before strutting off.

"_Boy you got my heartbeat runnin' away, Beating like a drum and it's coming your way. Can't you hear that boom, badoom, boom, Boom, badoom, boom bass?_"

The song turns more melodic and less of a rap, and that's were the Warblers have their strengths, so they sing the chorus twice. The song is longer than the regulations allow, so they had to make adjustments and let out some of the tongue-curling lyrics.

The Warblers perform their fairly simple choreography, while Blaine runs freely around them, improvising now and then when he isn't stepping into pattern.

"_Excuse me, you're a hell of a guy_," his lips curl around the words, and he cocks his head, looking at Kurt. "_You know I really got a thing for American guys, I mean, sigh, sickenin' eyes, I can tell that you're in touch with your feminine side, oh_," and he looks at the audience again, like a good lead should.

"_Boy you got my heartbeat runnin' away,_" he sings, tapping his hand over his heart._ "Beating like a drum and it's coming your way. Can't you hear that boom, badoom, boom, Boom, badoom, boom bass? He got that super bass. Boom, badoom, boom. Boom, badoom, boom bass. Yeah that's that super bass._"

The next song, they've rehearsed since January, when they went to that dreadful cabin for a Warbler weekend and Blaine got a slight concussion after drunkenly fighting with a door of all things. Despite the repetitiveness and sickening feeling Kurt now associates with the song, it is a good performance, great even.

"_You're all the things I've got to remember. You're shying away. I'll be coming for you anyway_." Blaine owns the song, rightfully, although it wouldn't kill the Warblers to use more leads, Kurt thinks, and okay, maybe he's jealous even though he was one of the leads for Sectionals. Or maybe it is _because_ he got to do it, because it proved they can win without putting all of their faith in Blaine. Blaine is fantastic. But that doesn't mean the other Warblers are terrible.

"_Take on me_," Blaine sings, "_take on me,_" they mirror. "_Take me on_," he sings, and they answer him "_take on me._" "_I'll be gone, In a day_," and he holds the note for so beautifully long Kurt wonders if he's practiced holding his breath and expanding his lungs in the pool back in Columbus. Blaine's falsetto gives Kurt shivers, and he almost stumbles in a step. That would be plainly embarrassing, to falter in the easy choreography.

For their last number, the Council is aiming for a crowd pleaser, doing a feel good-number, where Blaine's charm and charisma can unfold and bloom, swooning the judges with his happy playfulness and the Warblers' killer harmonies. They've more or less adapted the choreography from the music video. Not necessarily because they are _lazy_, but because they liked it and it suited them. Except for the dropping their pants-part, though.

"_Today I don't feel like doing anything. I just wanna lay in my bed. Don't feel like picking up my phone, so leave a message at the tone. 'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything,_" Blaine sings with a playful smile, enjoying himself, and brushing off the telephone-shaped hands of the closest Warblers surrounding him.

"_I'll be lounging on the couch just chilling in my Snuggie. Click to MTV so they can teach me how to dougie. 'Cause in my castle I'm the freaking man._" Blaine does some appropriate steps, running his hands over his hair, making it look improvised and playful. They do have a lot of fun with this song.

The audience gives them a standing ovation, and Kurt knows they were good. But he doubts they were as great as the others.

The boys walk composed off stage, but as soon as they're out of sight, they let the adrenaline from their performance high engulf them, running and shouting like idiots back to the English room. Everybody is hugging, congratulating each other on a show well done.

"That was so much fun!" Blaine beams, skipping across the floor, smiling from ear to ear.

Wes orders them to stay in the room, so they can walk together back on stage for announcement of the winner. He doesn't want to risk anyone disappearing and being late.

"Don't you want to find Rachel?" Seth teases him.

"She won't let me see her until the trophies have been handed out," Wes mutters. "She can't be distracted," he sulks.

* * *

They don't get a big trophy. The Warblers are last. And, surprisingly, the judges have decided to tie Vocal Adrenaline and New Directions, so they are both going to Nationals.

Blaine and Kurt are standing with the other Warblers in the school yard, getting some fresh oxygen after spending so much time in the dry school-air, congratulate the winners, and scout for Cheerios.

"Squirt!" Cooper enthusiastically engulfs his little brother in a borderline choking hug.

He lifts him up from the ground and carries him a couple of feet away from the Warblers, while Blaine laughingly kicks at wherever he can reach, demanding to get ground under his feet again.

"You did great; it was amazing to watch you. I have a list of points for improvement, and I think we should sit down to discuss them properly one day. You need to point more, and sometimes you forget to turn into the audience. But all in all, I approve."

Blaine just laughs, and hugs his brother back. He's learned to not take all of his critique seriously by now, not let it get to him as sensitively as it did before. Besides, after fearing he'd lose him, Cooper can get away with a lot of things these days. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Mr. Hummel and his wife hugging Kurt, with Finn in toe. Kurt had congratulated his friends and seemed truly happy for them, but Blaine knows Kurt's thorn. He would have been too. Who would say no to a chance to compete for Nationals in New York?

"Blaine," his father greets him, and Blaine stiffens. Old habits run through him, making him nervous and hesitant.

"I'm so sorry for disappointing you, father," he says hesitantly, having difficulties meeting his father's eyes.

"Blaine, what on earth are you talking about?" His father looks confused and sad.

"You came all the way to Lima to watch me, and we ended last. It must have been a waste of time for you," Blaine mutters, staring at his feet.

"Oh Blaine," his father sighs, and forces him into a hug. "You don't get it, do you? You were amazing up there. I'm so proud of you. So the judges preferred something else? Screw them. Even better," he says, leaning back to make sure Blaine can see his face. "I'll sue them," he winks.

It makes Blaine giggle and finally meet his dad's eyes.

"You love that stage, don't you? It suits you," he adds as Blaine nods. "I knew you have some pipes, but I didn't know you could do all of that. I'm really impressed. When is the next competition?"

"Umm, dad? We lost. There are no more competitions."

"Well, there's always your senior year, right?"

Blaine smiles and nods. He has an entire year where he can make his dad proud of him.

"And if your friends decide to throw an Easter Extravaganza, a Summer Spectacular or other kinds of concerts, I want a ticket," Devon Anderson says, letting go of Blaine with one hand, but keeping the other still wrapped around his shoulders.

Blaine can only nod and beam, he feels all bubbly and giddy inside. He turns his head in Kurt's direction, and their eyes meet. Kurt smiles brightly at him, nodding discreetly at Blaine's dad.

"Would Wes kill me if I kidnapped you from that bus of yours to take my sons out for dinner?"

Blaine looks at Cooper chatting up some Cheerios, and then at Wes congratulation Rachel personally.

"It would probably kick his system out of loop, but he'll have to deal."

"Good. I'm getting hungry, do you know if there's anywhere to eat here?"

Blaine's only eaten at Breadstix and Kurt's place, but he assumes there must be other places even in Lima.

"And there's Kurt, let's ask him for recommendations," Devon suggests before Blaine can answer.

He lets go of his son, and they walk over to the Hudmel's. The two teenagers smile at each other, and Carole and Burt's eyes light up in recognition.

"You were really great, dude!" Finn greets, slapping Blaine on the back so he almost stumbles. "I thought only Nicki Minaj and Rachel could talk that fast."

"It took some practice," Blaine laughs good-naturedly. "Dad, you've already met Kurt, and this is his brother Finn. These are their parents, Burt Hummel and Carole Hudson-Hummel."

"Devon Anderson," he greets, extending a hand for all of them, and they exchange pleasantries.

"Your son is really gifted," Burt says, nodding at Blaine, and Blaine's breath catches. He's so used to Cooper being the one recognized and acknowledged.

"Thank you," Devon smiles proudly. "He for sure didn't get it from me, and I can't help but be amazed by what he can make his voice and body do."

"I hear you," Burt laughs. "I couldn't carry a tune if it came with handles, and Kurt here just blows me away," he smiles equally proud.

"I hope I get to see you perform in a more central position next," Devon smiles at Kurt. "And let me congratulate you on your victory," he greets Finn. "Really good drumming!"

They continue their small talk for a while.

"I wanted to take my boys out for dinner. Could you recommend a place?"

"I don't know what you are in the mood for, but my colleagues can't stop talking about this new Mexican place at the Harding Highway. It wouldn't be much of a detour for your way back to Westerville either."

"Mexican sounds good to me," Blaine agrees at his dad's questioningly look.

"Do you think Cooper is into Mexican?"

Blaine looks back to where they were standing earlier, and Copper is still flirting with a Latina cheerleader.

"Yes," Blaine snorts, "I really do."

Curiously, Kurt looks in the same direction, and then looks at Blaine. Before soon, they're both bent double with laughter, surrounded by confused parents.

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Nelly Furtado - _Maneater  
_Kings of Leon - _Sex is on Fire  
_Melissa Etheridge – _I Want to Come Over  
_Christina Aguilera – _Show Me How You_ _Burlesque  
_Nicki Menaj – _Super Bass  
_AHA – _Take On Me  
_Bruno Mars – _The Lazy Song_


	41. Muted

**AN: This is a chapter in two parts, and the second part will be updated within a few days, when I'm done editing it/feel brave enough to let it go. I've never been so nervous about updating anything as I am now, with this and the next part. I really hope you'll like it, and that I'm doing everything justice.**

**In the next part, I'm using my all time favourite song, and that's a really big deal for me. I'm afraid of ruining the song for myself with adding it to my silly writing, but it really fits, so I'm taking a chance. Please be gentle with me!**

**I'm... I'm really nervous, and I've been writing on these two parts for several months. But I can't delay it anymore, so here goes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

* * *

Blaine can't help but smile to himself in the shower, getting rid of the sweat after Regionals and the spicy food-scent from the Mexican place his dad took Coop and him. It's been a really good day!

Blaine is pleased with their performance. They sounded good, and Blaine felt proud. Okay, so their harmonies were really good and showed a lot of their qualities and abilities, their dancing was as usual uninspired, and someone else should have taken lead when the Council insisted on doing Nicki Minaj. Blaine wasn't surprised they lost when he saw what the other show choirs brought to the table, and next year they'd need to step it up. And maybe he should dare to follow his gut feeling and speak up against the Council. According to Kurt, everybody in New Directions contributed when they planned their set lists, taking into account who could perform it best, and not allowing Rachel to take all the responsibility or all of the spot light.

But the competition aspect aside, Blaine felt really psyched about today. For once he'd felt he was completely true to himself. He's felt bolder lately. First, changing the gender specific lyrics in _You Should Be Dancing_ during the karaoke night, and then singing _Super Bass_ as if he liked boys. (Okay, so he can't completely defend being a rapper, but it hadn't been terrible, and the song had been a lot of fun, when all comes to all.) Which he does, he really does, and he's feeling less scared of the world. Oh, he knows the hate is still there. But his wounds have healed, he's tired of hiding, and he just wants to be himself, and be with the one he likes without apologizing to anyone.

The dinner with his dad had been surprisingly nice. Cooper had been able to let Blaine shine alone in the spotlight, and reigning in on himself instead of ploughing over him with his anecdotes and advice from _the business_.

The older had seemed sincere in his interest, asking Blaine about song selections and the performance. Blaine had tried explaining why it felt so huge singing _Super Bass_, why it had been a liberating thing. Maybe most people in the audience didn't think about it. But he was sure some of them had scrunched their noses either in confusion or in distaste, because he sang a song about boys.

Before Sectionals, Blaine had toyed with the idea of changing the _Girl, you really got me bad_-strophe in _Misery_. But in the end, he didn't feel confident enough to come out to an entire audience and pack of judges like that, and had stayed true to the lyrics. And of course, one can always discuss the topic of respecting the artists, not altering their craft, staying true to their work. But the Warblers already mess around so much with the songs to adjust them for their a cappella style, so to tweak the lyrics somewhat wouldn't be a bigger violation. It was Blaine who needed alterations to be able to do it.

Thanks to Kurt, Blaine wanted to change, wanted to improve, wanted to be bolder. And he knows he's changed since Sectionals, he's changed since he met Kurt. He still has far to go, but at least he feels as if he's in a better place now. He's ready. He thinks he can dare to try to be what Kurt wants now, if he's allowed to be that braze.

His dad had even asked him if his anxiety and insecurities were the reason he hadn't dated Kurt so far. The question had floored Blaine; he didn't expect his dad to be invested in his dating life or care about his romantic interests. When Blaine confirmed, his dad hadn't told him to get a grip or pitied him. He'd looked sad, but he'd also said he was proud of Blaine for staying true to himself while also pushing himself. Blaine felt his dad in that moment truly cared and respected Blaine, both his past and his current.

"I'm ready to ask him out now," Blaine had blushingly admitted.

His dad had seemed proud, and Cooper had sufficiently teased his little brother for growing up and growing a pair, enough so that Blaine wasn't all convinced he'd really miss him when he went back to LA the next day. When his dad asked when he'd take Kurt out, Blaine had explained how he wanted to complete his upcoming project before finding a grand way to ask him out.

It turns out, his dad had no idea what Blaine was talking about, not knowing what kind of tradition Toby had started almost two years ago, and how Blaine joined him last year. Blaine couldn't believe he didn't know, but then again – he hasn't told his dad much the last years. They talked more about how Toby is doing, as his dad hasn't seen him since they were in hospital together.

"Just remember not all occasions demand a grand spectacle. You don't need to hand Kurt the moon; just ask him out."

Blaine isn't completely convinced about that, though. Someone like Kurt deserves a really romantic gesture, and he'll have to figure out a proper way to ask him out in four weeks time, when things have calmed down and _that day_ is done for now.

* * *

They slowly cross the lawn, still panting, but feeling their hearts calm down after the jog. A few snow patches are stubbornly clutching to the lawn, but yellow and purple crocuses are blooming among the green.

"You seem tired," Blaine comments. "Did I push you too hard with that last sprint?"

"No, that wasn't any problem," Kurt assures him. "I'm just still a bit bumped we lost Regionals. I do think they were better, but…" He lets that be the entire explanation for why he's so blue these days. He can't unload his impatient longing on Blaine, when he's already explained how he struggles with being more than a friend. Kurt has to suck it up or move on.

"But you'd still like to go to Nationals. Who wouldn't?"

Kurt hums, and looks at Blaine, who is watching him with eyes that say understanding and patience. It makes Kurt feel guilty.

"Competition season may be over, but we still have possibilities to perform. And there's an upcoming event I'm preparing; maybe you'd be willing to help me?"

Ideally, Kurt would like some days on his own to decide for how long his poor heart can take this longing, and when he can justify giving up on Blaine romantically and moving on. It's not an easy decision, because he really likes Blaine, and he really wants to be his boyfriend. But he can't force the boy in a relationship. So for how long can Kurt deal with this? It's not as if a never ending line of guys are waiting to replace Blaine, but his heart aches with yearning a little more each day, and at some time Kurt will have to take care of himself.

On the other hand, the terrible misunderstanding with the Secret Santa has taught Kurt that he doesn't want to be without Blaine. He doesn't want to avoid him, he doesn't want to freeze him out again, he doesn't want to disentangle completely from him. He needs him, he's his best friend. He just needs to re-learn to appreciate what he has, instead of jeopardizing his heart for something he doesn't know when he'll get. Maybe he should take up a hobby or add to his extracurricular activities as an excuse to spend some of his spare time without Blaine. It can't be healthy to be that dependent on him?

"Sure," he hears himself saying, so apparently he'll be spending more time with Blaine from now on; not less.

"Thank you!" Blaine says, his voice sounding off, and when Kurt looks at him he looks both grateful and relieved.

"What did I just get myself into?" Kurt asks teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Do you know about _Day of Silence_?"

* * *

"So, you're saying Rachel is bitter for feeling humiliated after her performance for Regionals, thinking she somehow sold her body to the judges, and the Warblers are to blame?" Kurt laughs disbelievingly, adjusting his head set.

"Yeah," Mercedes grins. "Wes told her about the party at your sister school, where you did sexy songs. She thought you were testing material for Regionals, and decided to increase the temperature of our own set list."

"She's delusional," Kurt shakes his head in amusement. "She did give an… interesting show. But the boys were good."

"They were," she agrees. "Even though I'd like a solo, I'm glad Puck got one. He's great."

"'Cedes," Kurt says in a low voice, leaning closer to his laptop as if she can hear him better then. "What's going on between Santana and Brittany?"

"You noticed too?" she whispers sadly. Kurt nods to his web camera. "We really don't know much; Santana refuses to talk about it. The worst thing is she isn't talking with Brittany at the moment either."

"That blows," Kurt whimpers. "You have to keep me updated, I'm worried."

"I will, boo."

"So, Nationals – how on earth are you going to pay for that, and have Rachel demanded every single solo yet?"

* * *

Being Dalton's rock stars, the teacher had been lenient with the Warblers before Regionals – but now they have to make amends, and catch up on their reading, write papers and prepare for tests.

The Warblers are done with their competition season, but The Council is muttering about PaFoD and discussing set lists. Kurt constantly forgets to ask someone what PaFoD is, feeling stressed with the demanding classes, but everybody seems solemn and serious about it.

Blaine is busy with student president-business, but they manage to hang out now and then. Currently, he's sitting in his wide windowsill reading for history, and Blaine is resting on his stomach in his bed doing math.

"Blaine, can I ask you something?"

The boy drops his pencil, and looks up, giving Kurt his entire attention.

"Of course, Kurt. Always."

Kurt lowers his own book, musing for a while how to phrase his question.

"So, I do know what Day of Silence is. But I'm not sure I get how it can be of any use."

Blaine moves to sit up properly, before answering Kurt.

"Well, I'm sure you see how dedicating an entire day to a vow of silence nationwide is a symbolic action. We want to draw attention to all the silenced voices of those experiencing LGBTQ bullying and harassment."

"I don't have any problem supporting the cause wholeheartedly, and I think you know that," Kurt says carefully, giving Blaine a tight lipped smile. They both have experienced all of that, after all. "And I have to accept the symbolic effect, although it's closer to my nature to scream," he smiles ruefully. "But why at Dalton? Isn't the zero-tolerance anti bullying policy supposed to prevent any kind of discrimination?"

Blaine smiles at him, as if his questions are valid and important.

"Yes, of course – but there may still be people who choose to stay in the closet and isn't ready to come out. It's still important to put awareness on the subject. Dalton is a good school, but it isn't perfect" Blaine replies calmly. He continues to give examples from their classes and curriculum showing how LGBTQ matters still are overlooked or excluded.

"This is important to you," Kurt smiles fondly. Blaine's passionate speech, his distanced eyes looking somewhere far away, his gesticulating hands, his vibrating body, and his wide smile all say the same.

"It is. It's… It's only the second year I'm doing it. But Toby started the year before me."

"Who's Toby?"

"He was my date for the Sadie Hawkins dance," Blaine says sadly.

Fluidly, in one movement, Kurt slides down from his window to Blaine, and wraps his arms around him from behind, legs on either side of his body. Blaine melts into his embrace, leaning heavily against his chest.

He quickly draws a timeline for Kurt. The dance was in November, and DoS is held the third Friday in April. By then he was out of hospital, but still preoccupied with physical therapy, doctor appointments and counselling.

"Toby wasn't as badly injured as me, and he needed shorter time to recover. Immediately after the dance, his parents started looking for a safer place to move and finding new jobs. As soon as Toby was discharged, they left."

Blaine sighs, feeling heavy against Kurt's body. He folds his hands on top of Kurt's, four hands on his stomach.

"I've tried to understand where his boldness came from. One of the first things he did in his new school was joining PFLAG, and suggesting they do Day of Silence. He emailed me the day before, telling me about it, explaining he did it for the both of us," Blaine says, voice thick and rough. His head is tucked under Kurt's jaw, and Kurt tightens his arms around the boy, holding him close. "I was silent that day, although I hardly think anyone though much about it. I was hauled up in my room or in the basement swimming as usual, and I hadn't really come out of my shell after… Dad and Ella hadn't heard me sing or laugh in a very long time," Blaine whispers choked, and Kurt moves his arms to cover Blaine even more. One hand across his waist, and the other over his shoulder and across his chest, almost like a seat belt.

Blaine swallows thickly, almost curling up in Kurt's embrace.

"Dalton is safe, and when Toby told me he was doing Day of Silence again last year, I spontaneously decided to join him. He showed me the site to order pins, I talked with my teachers in advance, and then I just kept quiet an entire day. This year I was hoping more would join me."

Kurt hadn't thought about the possibility of Day of Silence being linked to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Now that he knows it is, he can't find a reason not to do this with Blaine. It's important, for many reasons.

"Will Toby be doing it this year too?"

"I think so, if it's possible in college. He graduated high school last year. He was a Junior to my Sophomore, and because of less injuries and private tutoring, he managed to graduate at normal pace," Blaine says, almost sounding bitter. Kurt can't blame him. Blaine's life has been hold up and delayed for an entire year. He should have been graduating in a few months. But at least this means they get one more year together, before college and life take them to new destinations.

"What can I do to help you with the preparations?"

* * *

With Blaine deciding to inform and invite the entire school instead of doing this as a solely private affair, there are heaps of administrative issues to deal with. Luckily, with Blaine as student president he is well versed in that department. Nick and Jeff also offer to help as soon as they realize what they're planning, and the four of them make for an effective committee. Even though there are four weeks from Regionals to Day of Silence, the days just aren't long enough, and their schedule is hectic. In between, Kurt goes home to Lima to spend time with his family, and while at Dalton he squeezes in Skype-chats with his friends.

Two weeks before the big day, he's Skyping Rachel. She caught him moving flyers and sticker sheets from his desk, and being the curious soul she is, she demanded to be told what was going on. So Kurt explained everything about Day of Silence and their plans. Rachel had burst with enthusiasm, and as the daughter of two dads, she felt the need to do the same thing at McKinley.

Within 24 hours, she had gathered New Directions to take the responsibility of doing Day of Silence in Kurt's old high school. They had agreed to do it both in homage to their ex-member Kurt, and as support to Santana and Brittany who just came out together to their Glee friends.

Kurt is both humbled and grateful. He is also glad for the two girls, but silently wonders how they really are doing. He calls Santana later that evening, and she understands perfectly what he wants to know, but bitches her usual sassiness and refuses to approach the topic. Kurt wonders briefly to call Brittany, who would give an honest answer and not dodge any questions. But she wouldn't hear what he asks, and give answers that for now wouldn't give him any valuable information, he fears. Finally, he calls Mercedes to see if she's noticed anything going on between the usual suspects – the Neanderthals – and the two girls. But so far, none outside New Directions seems to be in on the news.

The last week before Day of Silence is hectic, and the four boys organizing it are constantly seen walking briskly – because on does not run in Dalton hallways – to hang up posters and hand out flyers. They inform their teachers in advance. Blaine has a conversation with the administration, and as a result, the principal emails the entire student block explaining Day of Silence, with a link to the national site, and underlining how the staff at Dalton is supporting both the day and students who choose to attend – though with a reminder to inform their teachers in advance. In a staff meeting, the four of them are invited to explain the concept and answer questions from the staff.

The Council cancels Warblers' practice, and the choir members decide to attend Day of Silence in solidarity with them.

Kurt feels as if he's walking on cloud number nine. He can't believe how supportive the school is, how much they do to facilitate the day. Participating in Day of Silence will be a stroll in the park, and he can't imagine any kind of trouble or consequences except for maybe an odd look when the otherwise chatty quartet stays silent for 24 hours.

As Day of Silence approaches, Kurt can sense an unsettling feeling growing in his stomach. He is looking forward to Day of Silence, but he wonders what kind of impact the day really can have at Dalton. Yes, he remembers what Blaine said about potentially closeted people and about bringing more awareness among the staff and students. But still, he wishes they could do more. As a performer, it feels alien to make a statement by being all silent. It's the opposite of his bone marrow reflexes. But maybe that is the point, after all.

Two days before the big day, he walks into Blaine's room to study together for their geography test the next day. They had scheduled a time, to make sure Blaine was done with fencing practice and student council-meeting, and that's why Kurt walks in through the bathroom without knocking.

He finds Blaine by his desk, talking with someone on Skype. Rather, laughing with someone on Skype. Kurt hasn't heard him laugh like that in a long time, and this obviously has to be someone close to the boy. Kurt's just about to respect his privacy and leave, when Blaine notices him.

"Hold on, Toby, we got company," Blaine goddamn giggles, and Kurt's stomach aches. Blaine turns in his chair towards Kurt, waving him over. "Come and say hello!" he beams.

Kurt puts on a smile, and walks over to Blaine. He has to crouch somewhat to be seen properly by the web camera. On the screen, he sees a stunningly gorgeous boy with the greenest eyes he's ever seen, and Kurt's devil on his right shoulder suggests they are contacts. He has dark flowing hair, and the angel on his left shoulder sighs at the chiselled bone structure in that face. The boy, Toby, is experimenting with some kind of petit goatee, and he looks so intriguing, all grown up college-boy and everything. And then Kurt notices the barbell through his left eyebrow. Kurt's devil snickers, and the green monster in his stomach roars.

"Toby, this is Kurt," Blaine says, and from the way Toby's face lights up in recognition, Kurt realizes Blaine's mentioned him to Toby. He feels less raging and more curious.

"Hi Toby, it's nice to meet you," he says, smiling more honest and giving him a little wave. Because introductions through Skype are so natural and easy flowing.

"I'm glad to meet you too, Kurt!" Toby looks as if he wants to say something more, glancing at Blaine. "I hope you have a good Friday," he says cryptically.

"It was so good catching up with you again, but I'll have to ditch you now for this one and our school books," Blaine explains, glancing up at Kurt.

Blaine's already disconnected the conversation by the time Kurt realizes Toby was talking about Day of Silence. And if he's to interpret his emotional whirlwind the last five minutes, he's far from succeeded in talking himself out of his Blaine-hang up yet.

* * *

The night before Day of Silence, Blaine bids him goodnight after they're done brushing their teeth side by side in the bathroom.

"Thank you for doing this with me. It really means a lot to me."

He hugs him longer than usual, and nothing more is said between the boys, before Blaine slowly pulls away and leaves for his own room.

* * *

Kurt gains consciousness to the feeling of someone watching him. He yawns, stretches his entire body, blinks, turns around to face the room, and finally opens his eyes. He smiles at Blaine sitting by his bedside. Without thinking, he opens his mouth to greet the boy, but is stopped by two fingers on his lips. Kurt's confused until he remembers which day it is. _Day of Silence_. He can't say a word, the entire day.

He lifts one hand to remove Blaine's fingers from his mouth, and squeezes his hand in reassurance as he mimics closing a zipper over his lips with his other hand. Blaine's honest and warm smile makes his heart stutter, and it doesn't improve when Blaine hands him a mug of steaming coffee. Kurt accepts it gratefully, and scoots closer to the wall. He pats on his bed and moves the covers, wordlessly telling Blaine to join. The boy climbs into bed, and they sit close with the covers over their legs, their bodies touching and sharing warmth. Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt, and Kurt leans into the embrace, resting his head on the boy's shoulder. He slips his arm around Blaine's waist. It's a moment of pure bliss.

Kurt takes a sip of the coffee, careful to avoid spilling the hot liquid on Blaine. He then lifts the mug up to Blaine, tilting his head slightly, and nodding once. Blaine accepts the mug, and sighs as he swallows a mouthful of coffee. He gives the mug back to Kurt, and they share the rest of it while enjoying ten lazy morning minutes.

He offers Blaine the last sip of the coffee, and when drained, Blaine places the empty mug on Kurt's nightstand. They stay silent in bed for two more minutes. Kurt can hear the relaxed heart beats through Blaine's chest. But then Blaine tightens his hold around Kurt's shoulders for a moment, before he unfolds and gets up from bed. Kurt shivers; his body feels cold where Blaine is missing. He crawls deeper under his covers, but Blaine cruelly rips them off and drags Kurt out of bed with a smile and a wink. He takes the boy's hand, and leads him into the warm bathroom with a big, teasing grin on his face. Both know Kurt really isn't a morning person, even though he usually gets up early. Just because he needs time to get ready, doesn't mean he enjoys leaving the warm cocoon of his bed.

Kurt's hand is still in Blaine's, as Blaine stretches his other hand through the shower cabinet doors and turns the water on. He has to stand on the balls of his feet to reach the top shelf, but smiles triumphantly as he presents Kurt with a big, fluffy towel. He releases Kurt's hand and makes shooing motions with his own as he leaves the bathroom. Kurt smiles even though he rolls his eyes.

After sharing a bathroom for five months, they are very well in tune with their morning rituals. It's a perfect agreement that Kurt uses the bathroom first, because he needs more time, and can finish his preparations in his own room while Blaine showers. While Kurt showers, however, Blaine sometimes dozes until Kurt knocks on his door to let him know the bathroom is free. But most often, he uses the time to check his email for any last messages from the administration, re-read some homework, work on one of the many essays they are assigned, think about song suggestions for the Warblers, go for a quick jog, or just enjoying Kurt's singing in the shower. Kurt knows this, because they have actually spoken about and discussed this. Instead of waiting impatiently for the other or bursting in at awkward moments, they sat down and agreed on their morning routines and how to share the bathroom right after Kurt moved to Dalton.

By the time Kurt is done brushing his teeth and undressing, the spray of water is nice and hot, and it's a pleasant change to enter the shower with perfect water ready, instead of tiptoeing in a corner and waiting for the cold water to turn to the right temperature. Kurt blushes when he finds himself wondering about Blaine's shower routines. They have shared morning routines, skin care tips, hair styling tips and product recommendations. Thinking about Blaine in the shower, though, and as a consequence thinking about Blaine without clothes, is not the way to go this morning, Kurt scolds himself. He briefly considers a cold shower until he gets control over his body again. He can't distract himself with singing either, and has to focus to not burst into one of the many shower performances he usually gives. Kurt realizes staying silent for an entire day will be more difficult than he thought, because there are so many moments where he makes sounds without thinking about it.

* * *

Breakfast is odd. The usual boisterous Warbler-tables are airily silent, every single one of them taking part. Surrounding six of them is a sober solemness. Wes and David know enough about their gay friends' backgrounds to take in the seriousness of a day like this. It's a day for triumph, victory and celebration. But it's also a grave day, for remembering, showing solidarity and pulling attention to the serious questions.

They mostly eat without communication, but Kurt notices how there's always a point of contact between Nick and Jeff. He's always considered Nick the most mature and responsible of the two, while Jeff is a happy-go-lucky boy with silly ideas and a never-ending arsenal of pranks Nick and the other boys readily join in on. But today Jeff looks five years older, and is plainly taking care of Nick. Nick looks distant and sad, and Kurt can only assume he's thinking about his old school. Their karaoke night may have been great to forget and celebrate new chances. Today however, demands reminiscing.

Kurt pays attention to Blaine as well. After all, Day of Silence is a tradition his friend started because of the attack, and it would be impossible not to think about it. He seemed emotional and upset when he told Kurt about it. Absently, Blaine keeps stroking his bad hip. Kurt takes his hand, to prevent him for rubbing at old wounds and to show his support. Blaine looks at him with so many emotions, and Kurt can't name them all. He rests his forehead on Kurt's shoulder for a moment, before finishing his eggs and bacon.

Kurt even allows himself to remember, to grieve, to feel anger, to resent, to feel sorry, for both himself and for others. He allows himself to bring back memories he's deliberately pushed away since he transferred. He thinks about everything he experienced at McKinley, and wonders how many other kids are bullied throughout Ohio, or in the entire United States. He thinks about other teenagers being silent today, and wonders how their schools meet them. There are some curious glances thrown at the Warblers, but every student is informed about this day, and most faces light up with realization after a few seconds. There are no condescending or hateful looks, just a few double takes because the Warblers never ever sit this silent. It's not often they are all gathered around the same table either, but today it felt natural and right to join.

He hopes Dalton really is as perfect as it seems, and that nobody goes through bullying here anyway. He chuckles soundlessly, his chest jumping, when he realizes he doesn't even know where the dumpsters at Dalton are. Blaine looks questioningly at him, hovering a hand over his chest as if to comment on his amusement. Kurt simply smiles, shrugs, and shakes his head. Everything is fine.

In first class, their English teacher Miss Bluefeather checks a list of names, those who announced in advance that they'd participate in Day of Silence. She nods at each of them, giving them a tight lipped smile. On the blackboard, she writes down their reading assignment for today, before sitting down by her desk. She doesn't say a word the entire hour, and Kurt wonders if she's actually participating, or if she does it out of respect – or if it is a way to avoid the silent part of her students and get some teaching done anyway. He'll have to ask Blaine if he knows anything about her. He'll have to ask Blaine a day he's actually allowed to use his vocal chords.

After his first class, Kurt texts Mercedes to learn about the situation at McKinley. He highly doubts things are as easy as at Dalton, and wants to show his friends he's thinking about them. He's never experienced _Day of Silence_ at McKinley, and he fears his imagination can foster a lot of cruel and truthful scenarios.

Mercedes doesn't answer until Kurt is in the middle of his second period. Kurt risks checking his phone even though it isn't allowed. He thinks finding out about the well being of his friends is a valid exception on a day like today. Mercedes' answer worries Kurt.

_We're a tough bunch and stick together, we'll survive, boo. Don't worry. This is for you, Santana and Brittany. We have one day, you have 365 days with this._

Between second and third period, Kurt calls Mercedes, but she doesn't answer, and he flushes with embarrassment when he realizes neither can speak on the phone today. He bombards her with texts instead, but she doesn't answer those either. Maybe she's in class, but Kurt still worries. He shoots off a quick text to Finn, demanding on the altar of brotherhood to be told the truth about the situation at McKinley.

The answer comes five minutes in the third period.

_Fuck, Kurt. You never deserved any of this. It's as if they've planned a Day of Hell._

Seven minutes in the third period, Kurt knows what he has to do.


	42. When You Say Nothing At All

Kurt ignores the etiquette for proper behaviour, and sprints to the dining hall, where the Dalton students are in the middle of their lunch. He has to find Blaine and somehow explain what he's about to do. He doesn't want to abandon or let Blaine down on Day of Silence, considering how important the day is to him, but this isn't a choice anymore, he only has one option.

Blaine's surprise is evident all over his face as he spots Kurt out of uniform. Kurt stops abruptly in front of him, not quite sure how to explain all of his worries, concerns and emotions. He's standing in front of Blaine in a set of his regular clothes, but he knows he doesn't look as immaculate and effortless as he usually is. His shirt is poorly tucked into his pants, his waistcoat is only buttoned halfway, and his satchel is slung carelessly over his shoulder, with a set of extra clothes sticking out from under the lid in case he'll need it. He's wearing a fedora to cover up the mess on his head after throwing his uniform off and new clothes on. His car keys are in one hand, his phone in the other. He looks at Blaine with desperation, hopelessness, but also determination. He has told Blaine all about New Directions' plans for Day of Silence at McKinley, and hopes Blaine will put the pieces together.

Everything happens so fast. Kurt hasn't even caught his breath after running to his room to change and then run back to the dining hall, before Blaine shoots up from his chair and embraces Kurt, holding him tight in his arms, and his deep exhale of worried breath is everything Kurt needs. Blaine _gets_ it. Kurt can't stay at a peaceful and tolerating Dalton today, not when his friends are going through what Finn describes as hell.

Blaine turns around, looking right at Nick and Jeff. His hands lands on both boys' shoulders, and he squeezes them quickly before stepping back, waving goodbye. Nick and Jeff have been given the responsibility for the rest of the Day of Silence at Dalton. Their faces are serious. The day has been harmless and safe at Dalton, just very silent. Still they should stay, in case someone has questions or needs them in someway or other. They _understand_, without words.

Blaine takes Kurt's hand, and they run out to the parking lot. Resembling, but still quite different from the short cut he once showed Kurt. He's untied his tie, rolled it up and put it in his blazer pocket before they find Kurt's Navigator. He takes the car keys from Kurt, and carelessly tosses his blazer on the backseats before getting behind the wheel.

Kurt is so grateful he could cry. Even though every nerve cell tells him it is the right thing to do, he's also petrified to go back to McKinley. He hasn't had time to prepare and steel himself for going back to his old school. This is an emotional day, and he doesn't know how it will be to see the jocks again. He doesn't know if he's ready to awaken all the memories he's tried to repress and run away from.

The truth is, he hasn't dealt with his past, the bullying and the death threat as he should have. He hasn't been able to really digest everything that happened, especially the outcome. It's as if he's protected himself by keeping it on a distance, and staying at Dalton has only made the distance longer and the memories weaker, almost faded away. With Blaine driving, he has one hour and forty five minutes to prepare himself for his past. And get his clothes on more properly.

Kurt wishes he could show Blaine the texts from Finn. He made his decision to go before the follow-ups came, but they only emphasize he's doing the right thing. Finn hasn't told him about anything happening that Kurt didn't experience himself at McKinley, or at least similarities. From what his friends in New Directions have told him, things calmed down drastically after he transferred. Of course. He was gone, and no other obvious target stood out from the crowd of Glee, so the random incident was now a collective project, no one was singled out.

Obviously, it escalated today, as if they had been saving it up for the last five months, and releasing it today. Slushies, locker checks, dumpster tossings, trying to lock them in port-a-potties, slurs, threats. Nothing new or creative; they were going with the old familiar path, graciously offering them a rerun of a previous success.

Blaine knows about more or less everything that happened to Kurt before he came to Dalton, so it isn't as if he will be too surprised by what Kurt's friends have been through today. But still Kurt would like to be able to warn him, maybe give him some advice. Who knows if it will be safe for Blaine at McKinley? Karofsky shoved Blaine against the fence the first time he came to McKinley, who knows what else might happen? Kurt fidgets with his phone, thinking about showing Blaine Finn's devastated texts, but finally decides against it. Blaine is already speeding; he doesn't want to jeopardize their car ride even further.

Kurt shoves the phone back into his pocket, and rests his head against the cold window glass. He doesn't see the fields, the suburbs, the industry areas, or Indian Lake State Park as they pass the miles between Westerville and Lima. He can only see slushies, trash, the faces of jocks, destroyed clothes, bruises, broken skin and fear.

A warm hand is gently laid on Kurt's neck, and as it rubs his skin soothingly, Kurt's mind is slowly brought back to his car and Blaine. Kurt turns his head towards Blaine, and their eyes meet. It makes Kurt feel all warm and tingly inside. Blaine's eyes shine of calmness, of support, and something Kurt isn't at all able to decipher, but it makes him want to stare in Blaine's eyes for the next eternity. All too sudden Blaine looks away, to pay attention to the road. But his hand remains on Kurt's neck, even when Kurt moves in his seat to sit closer to the driver. Blaine's touch makes Kurt feel calmer, more grounded, it's as if he can breathe more easily. The churning nerves coiling in his tummy has to fight for space with the giddy butterflies Blaine awakens.

They don't have much further to drive, and Kurt is carefully studying Blaine's face. As they have gotten closer and closer to the school, Kurt has seen subtle changes in Blaine. He sits slightly tenser behind the wheel, and sometimes the hand on his neck stops rubbing as if Blaine is thinking so hard on something he forgets to do that simple movement. He's begun putting on a mask which Kurt hardly sees when they are alone. He's usually showing all kinds of emotions, but now they aren't merely his heart talking, it's also an impressive amount of acting. It's a guarded Blaine protecting himself, trying to give of himself without risking losing anything. It's a guarded Blaine hiding away a big part of his emotions and thoughts reserved for those he let in close. Kurt and Blaine have grown so close, Blaine hasn't pretended in front of Kurt for a long time. Kurt thinks he's pretty good at reading Blaine, but there are still mysteries and unknown expressions. Kurt wants to be able to read Blaine, and understand all the languages Blaine can speak without his vocal chords.

Right now Blaine's jaw is slightly more pronounced, meaning he's clenching his facial muscles to school his expression. His eyes are slightly crinkled in the corners, and they often are when Blaine laughs openly and full heartedly. But now he is smiling with his lips shut; a polite smile without being too friendly nor too rejecting. That means he's narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, to focus better on what he's seeing. Usually his eyes are so expressive, so open, warm and so trusting. With his other eyes, he can school his expression more, and not give off so easily what his eyes otherwise might tell. If he had his brightly coloured sunglasses here, Kurt is convinced he would wear them. Not only as a fashion statement and expression of personality, but also as protection and a substantial part of his mask. Kurt wonders how Blaine is feeling about being back at McKinley, a public school. Being there for Regionals on a Saturday surrounded by team mates can't compare, doesn't count in this picture. Their second visit in a month will be completely different. Kurt has been so relieved to have Blaine's support as he returns to his past; he completely forgot this will be some kind of a return for Blaine to his past as well.

As Blaine steers the car into an available parking place, Kurt casually rummages through the dashboard storage tray to find the emergency lip gloss he knows he has there. If he happens to find the aviators which live permanently in the car in case of low sun surprising him while driving, that is pure luck. If he happens to put them on top of the dashboard, that's just because he needs to clear the tray to find his lip gloss. And if he happens to leave the sunglasses out as he closes the storage tray, that's just because he's distracted by being back at his old school.

Blaine puts on the aviators nonchalantly, playing it cool, but the smile he gives Kurt says _I know you found them for me_. The smile Kurt returns says _I know you never would have asked for them_, and Blaine answers with a smile saying more than a thousand words can express. A part of the smile is saying things Kurt doesn't think he knows the words for either.

They step out of the car. Blaine opens the two top buttons of his shirt and rolls up his sleeves. In his white shirt and gray slacks he looks almost dressed as civilian as Kurt does. He makes sure the sunglasses are perched perfectly on his nose, before taking Kurt's hand. His eyes meet Kurt's eyes over the sunglasses, and they silently agree that if there ever was a day to hold hands at McKinley, this would be the one.

* * *

They cross the school yard together, walking close, fingers never hesitating and staying in their grip. The eager April sun, glad to be stretching its rays again, is reflected in Blaine's aviators. The wide concrete stairs is covered with high school students, soaking up the warmth of this beautiful spring day. They are chatting loudly, laughing, shouting at each other. A part of Kurt wants to address every single one of them, shake them by their shoulders and make them understand how indecent they are being.

Most of them are ignoring the two boys walking side by side with their hands clasped between them, crossing the school yard as soon as they've decided none of their friends are there. Some of the high schoolers are giving them dirty looks, a few smirks wickedly, but as long as they stay silent, they are also mostly invisible.

Together, they enter the building, walking down the hallways randomly, not knowing where to find any of their friends. It's enough to make Kurt's palms sweaty, and he briefly wonders how disgusted Blaine is by him right now, but the boy only tightens his hold when Kurt wiggles his fingers. He wonders who's clutching at whom right now.

It's weird how different the school looks, with students milling around them, running to class rooms, noisily picking up stuff in their lockers and slamming the doors shut, making out wherever, elbowing their way through. It's nothing like Dalton, and Kurt can hardly believe this used to be his normalcy. Even the students look unfamiliar, as if he's never seen any of them before.

At least it's so until Blaine and he turns a corner, and suddenly find themselves in front of several familiar faces.

"We heard some rumours The Queen Freak had returned after being kicked out of the posh castle she was squatting, and this time bringing her Buttboy. And of course the welcoming committee had to check if it was true," Azimio smirks.

_Your insults don't even make sense_, Kurt thinks, staring bored at the letterman jacket-clad jocks. He's still holding Blaine's hand, and a part of him decides it'll be a defeat if they let go now just because brainless trolls are blocking their way. Blaine seems to be on the same page, but Kurt can feel him tremble next to him.

"Cat caught your tongue, Hummel, or did it get stuck while you did the nasty?" Azimio growls. He's surrounded by several jocks, obscuring the hallway. Karofsky is standing not far from his best friend, but he's mostly watching the floor, avoiding Kurt's searching eyes, and not even trying to say anything.

Kurt puts on a haughtily expression, raising his eyebrows as if he wonders what the hell Azimio is talking about. Bored, he studies his nails and cubicles on the hand not holding Blaine.

"I bet someone got really confused by his lady pipes, and made him shut up for ever," Azimio brilliantly suggests, earning a couple of high fives from the other jocks.

Dave finally lifts his head, and Kurt doesn't hesitate to look at him. His gaze doesn't waver, and he keeps his face neutral, but his mind is in turmoil. He knows Dave's secret, and he doesn't know if that's an advantage or not. Does the boy feel backed up in a corner, or does he trust that his threat is taken serious enough to not say anything? Doesn't he realize Kurt can't out him, because it goes against everything he believes in? Is Dave still scared? Is he scared enough to attack, just in case? Will he let Azimio do whatever he wants? Has Dave done anything to Kurt's friends today? Is he feeling lonely?

Dave chews on his lower lip, and is the first to break eye contact. He quickly glances over at Blaine, visibly swallowing heavily at the sight of their linked hands.

Dave looks past them, to somewhere far behind them further down the hallway.

"Guys, it looks like Hummel's balls finally dropped. Let's find someone else to play with," he suggests, his voice hoarse, and he coughs exaggeratedly to cover up the waver.

Azimio twitches, but nods at Dave's suggestion.

"Hummel, you better be here merely for a brief visit to nanny your pathetic gleek friends. If I see you here again, the welcoming committee will be sure to bring gifts," Azimio threatens menacingly, before they all walk off. Dave throws a last, sad look at Kurt, before he turns around and disappears with his crew.

As soon as they're out of sight, Kurt deflates and slumps on Blaine. He'd forgotten how menacing and exhausting a rendez-vous with those guys could be.

"Is everything alright here, Porcelain?" a familiar voice asks from behind.

Without looking up from Blaine's shoulder, he gives her the most sarcastic thumbs up he can muster.

"So, not only are you stupidly brave enough to come back, and you don't think it's enough of a red handkerchief waved in front of the brutes to bring Sir Gels-Alot along – but you're actually taking part in this mute passive-aggressive rainbow holiday?"

She then proceeds to yell at some passing students who walk too slowly for her taste, informing them the circus will be in town next month, and they should get the hell out of here if they don't want her to assign them for her vacant position in the cheerleading squad as the human cannonball. The entire affaire takes less than three seconds, and while shouting she clears the closest bathroom for girls, kind of friendly shoving Blaine and Kurt inside.

"Take five," she orders, closing the door and keeping guard in front of it.

They simply hold each other for a long while.

* * *

Kurt has mostly forgotten the schedule at his old school. They are halfway through the second last period, and Coach Sylvester pointed them in the direction of the choir room. Kurt doesn't know how she could know, but he doesn't know how she can a lot of things, and decides to trust her.

And of course – all of the New Directions are gathered in the choir room. When Kurt and Blaine stop in the door opening, Finn is the first to spot them. He would normally have jumped up, stumbled and hugged Kurt until his bone threatened to break. When he however remains on his chair, gives a half hearted nod and a wave, Kurt knows this is serious. Finn gets the others attention by poking them on their foreheads or shoulders, and points to the door opening. When everybody is watching, Kurt and Blaine enter the room.

The first thing Kurt notices is Santana and Brittany's outfits, the latter pierced in Santana's lap. He's surprised to see them wearing matching rainbow coloured sweaters. That is, until he realizes the sweaters were white, but they've been slushied so many times with different flavours, they now have multi coloured stains. Santana and Brittany have never been in that position, they've never had to keep an extra set of clothes in their lockers. Kurt scans his other friends to see if they've been targeted equally bad, but most of them seem to have avoided the worst slushies, or been able to clean up and change to spare clothes. The looks on their faces, though, shows they've been through war.

Kurt reaches out his hands to the two girls, and they take them. He pulls them up from the chair, quickly hugs them, and leads them out of the choir room. Blaine stays behind, accepting various hugs and silent greetings from Kurt's friends.

* * *

Blaine's heart rate is calming down to a more normal rhythm, and it feels surprisingly good to sit in the choir room at McKinley. These teenagers are Kurt's friends first and foremost, but they still feel like comfort to Blaine today. He doesn't know all of them very well, but he knows them well enough to feel comfortable. Besides, knowing they participate in Day of Silence today with him is enough to bond with and appreciate them forever, he thinks.

After everyone's given him their muted hello's, Mercedes – who he's met most often of them – drags him back to the chairs, and pulls him down next to her. He notices Rachel is wearing duct tape over her mouth, and he briefly wonders if they should have brought Wes with them for her. But she seems surprisingly fine. Fierce eyes, probably brimming with unspoken words and unsung songs, but she seems to be ready for a new battle.

Kurt's brother looks defeated and devastated. He's sitting with his face hidden in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Blaine's never seen someone that tall look so small. He's slumped over, and his petite blonde girlfriend has embraced him, obviously comforting him as good as possible. Puck is sitting on Finn's other side, with a hand on his shoulder. Blaine can't help but smile fondly at the scene. He doesn't know what they've been through, but they are in it together.

Tina and Mike are sitting close, a couple of chairs away from the others. Her face is marred with dried tear tracks, and Mike is holding an ice package to her temple. Sam is sitting on the floor, plucking spaghetti out of the spokes on Artie's wheelchair. Lauren is pacing the floor, clenching her knuckles until they crack, one of the few sounds in the room.

Blaine had expected the situation at McKinley to be bad, when he saw Kurt out of uniform and realized where he was going. He doesn't think Kurt's told him every detail of what happened in his old school, but he knows enough to imagine what his friends have been going through. And Blaine didn't want Kurt to enter that school on his own, Blaine didn't want to be in Westerville thinking about Kurt roaming the hallways by himself while looking for his friends. Blaine didn't want Kurt to be alone for a single step through this. Blaine wanted to be there for him, and it might have been the most petrifying thing he's volunteered for in years, but it was about time for Blaine to step up and stop hiding, stop running away.

Driving Kurt's Navigator had been easy – it had kept him busy and distracted, while Kurt already looked so lost Blaine didn't want to see him risk being behind the wheels. As they got closer to McKinley – and Blaine had taken the Dalton-Lima tour enough times to know the road as good as the back of his hand, it had been difficult to avoid his attention straying from the driving or from Kurt. He never went back to his old school, but went straight from the hospital to his home, and then to Dalton. Going to a public school with a mission, with a quest like this… He wasn't quite sure if it was redemption or stupidity, but there was no backing out now.

He'd been so, so grateful when Kurt in his own clever way offered Blaine his sunglasses, and he'd probably – if possible – fallen even harder for the boy there and then. It wasn't hiding, it was… props. It was putting on a uniform for this battle. He couldn't show any weakness, it'd be blood to the vultures. And maybe was it unnecessarily provoking to enter the school walking hand in hand, but fuck it, just fuck it all today. Kurt was so brave coming back to the school he had to leave in a rush injured and with a death threat over his head. Blaine couldn't be any less. Blaine had to do this. Blaine _wanted_ to do this.

Meeting the infamous jocks had been somewhat of a test, and every nerve in Blaine's body was screaming to take Kurt and himself out of there, but they had stayed tall and unfaltering. Trembling and petrified behind the aviators, perhaps, but not backing away even an inch. The time out in the little girls' room had been a necessity, but sitting here among Kurt's friends, he feels revamped and fit for fight again. Their unconditioned welcome and inclusion of him in their tight knitted group is all he needed. He isn't alone, not anymore. It isn't Blaine against the world. It's Blaine experiencing love, so just fuck the world.

* * *

Behind the stage in the auditorium, is a storage room for the glee club. Luckily, it isn't locked, and Kurt drags Brittany and Santana inside. Among various song books, sheet notes, microphone stands and background sets, there's also a collection of their costumes. The dresses from Sectionals and Regionals the last years are still stored there, and Kurt encourages the girls to change into one of them while he politely leaves to give them some privacy.

When they return to the choir room, Will Schuester has joined the glee club. It's obvious that he's also participating in Day of Silence, or at least he is during their practice, and he greets Kurt with an awkward pat on the back. Blaine and the choir director shake hands. Even Brad the pianist and the members of the jazz club are there, although it's obvious there won't be any singing today. Everybody is sitting together, and everybody is holding hands. There's a chain of hands clutching hands across the room.

The saxophone player in the jazz band starts on a tune, and maybe he doesn't know what kind of day this is, or maybe the silence got too much for him, but he plays slowly and carefully. Brad joins in on the piano and soon after the guitarist and the bassist join as well. The song is mellow, played softly, but tenderly.

Kurt recognizes the song immediately, and sings the lyrics in his head.

_All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am. So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am. But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to_. _It's true, I was made for you._

The song is quite fitting for today. It isn't just a love song. It's a song about solidarity, about understanding each other, about finding someone who gets you – be it a friend or a lover. It's about having experiences not everybody else can share with you. It's almost an anthem for Day of Silence. Deciding it isn't violating the purpose of this day, Kurt stands up, and tugs Blaine with him. He stops on the middle of the floor, facing a placid and pliant Blaine. One step closer, and he smiles tenderly at his soul mate, one of the few who can understand Kurt's past, who is sharing his present, and hopefully also will be a part of his future. This friendship is too much to cherish. Kurt folds his hands around Blaine's neck as he feels the other boy enveloping him, resting his hands under his shoulder blades. They sway gently to the music, and it isn't so much about dancing as it is about being close.

The band moves on to a new song, and Kurt praises the God of Glee club who enables the band to choose such suiting songs for this day.

_So do whatever it takes, 'cause you can't rewind a moment in this life. Let nothing stand in your way, 'cause the hands of time are never on your side_.

Live today, embrace the moment, Kurt has to leave his dreaded past, and focus more on helping himself to a promising future. Blaine tightens his hold around Kurt, and maybe is he thinking about the same thing. Maybe is he also refusing to let his past define him, not letting the bullying limit who he can be and what he can do.

Kurt glances up from where his head is leaning on Blaine's shoulder, and he sees Santana and Brittany, Tina and Mike, Mercedes and Sam, and Finn and Quinn have joined them on the dance floor. Miss Pillsbury has joined them at some moment, and is dancing with her fiancé and their choir director. Rachel is dancing on her own, and it should look sad, but she just seems careless and free. She reaches out her hands for Artie, and they twirl and move to the instruments playing. Puck is staring all lovey-dovey at Lauren, and she has Puck in a determined grip and moves him around the room. Puck looks blessed, his head resting on her generous bosom.

* * *

Somehow, everybody ends up at the Hudmel's after school. Burt and Carole were informed about their sons' plans to participate in Day of Silence at their respective schools. If they are surprised to see Kurt among his old school friends, Blaine trailing not far behind, they don't show it. They greet Blaine as a welcomed part of the big group of friends; Carole with a hug and Burt with a handshake and a pat on his back. Neither Burt nor Carole utters a word, clearly respecting their kids' Day of Silence. They seem to understand the day hasn't been all peaches and cream from the solemn, resigned and angry faces.

Carole starts making cookies from one of Kurt's favourite receipts, and Burt brings them an assortment of cans with mineral water before helping Carole in the kitchen to offer them some privacy. The pizza shows up on the door soon after, and Kurt eats greedily – he hasn't had any food since breakfast.

The teenagers are gathered in the living room, on the couch, armchairs and the floor. Kurt lets the guest have the most comfortable seats, and is sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Blaine smiles to Kurt, before sitting down in front of him, faced away from him. He puts his hands on Kurt's knees, firmly nudging them apart and scooting backwards until his head is resting against Kurt's chest. Without thinking, Kurt intertwines their fingers. When he realizes what he's done, he tenses and tries to unlock their hands. But Blaine simply gives a quick squeeze, and pulls Kurt's arms even closer around himself.

Kurt knows his heart is beating like the hooves of a wild horse, and he wonders if Blaine can hear or feel it. It's been an emotional and heavy day. Kurt's had to deal with a lot of unwanted memories and haunting ghosts. But Blaine has been by his side, all day long. To make up for all the talking they've had to forego, they've both been more affectionate and touching. For each comforting word, for each compliment, for each soothing noise, for each supporting encouragement, for each distracting joke, for each flirting banter, for each deep conversation, for each silenced sound there has been a touch. Hugging, holding hands, intertwining their fingers, dancing, massaging, squeezes, simple touches, rubbing, skin against skin, body meeting body to say "I am here for you". Maybe the day has been the most difficult for Kurt, but it hasn't been easy for Blaine either. But they've had each other. It's as if the last shy barriers dissolved today, and they've been able to be everything the other needs.

Someone, maybe Sam or Puck, brought a guitar from the choir room, and the boys have alternated on playing softly for the group. When Blaine gets Puck's attention, he makes a grabby movement for the guitar. He moves slightly between Kurt's legs and bends his own legs to support the guitar better. Kurt lets the arm resting on Blaine's hip under the guitar neck stay, but moves his right arm away. Blaine starts playing a classical piece Kurt doesn't know, but it's beautiful, soft and soothing. It's almost sad, but also sweet. Kurt lets himself disappear in the music, and doesn't realize he's stroking Blaine's hip bone over his shirt with his thumb to the slow beat of the song he's playing.

When the last note has died out, Blaine lets Sam take the guitar. He leans closer against Kurt, and their hands find their way back to each other again.

There's a serene calmness in the room. Despite of everything, they are relaxed, they are happy, and they are together. They are smiling honest, eyes gleaming with the feeling of power for doing this day, just a lingering sadness because they've learned so much more about how cruel the world can be. Nobody is sitting alone, they are split up in groups or couples, regardless of who's dating who, just spending time and closeness on this day of solidarity.

Most of the cookies have been eaten, and some of their friends have already left. Kurt hasn't noticed anyone giving them meaningful looks and teasing smiles. Any other day, his girls would have said something about their behaviour and privately commented his more than obvious crush. Today, however, the rules are different.

Santana and Brittany are the last to leave, both giving Kurt and Blaine long, warm, sincere hugs before they walk out hand in hand. The sight makes Kurt's heart ache a little, while also smiling for them.

* * *

Back at Dalton, they go via the common's room on their way to their rooms. If Nick or Jeff is there, they can let them know they are back. There are no sounds coming from the room, but they check it anyway. They are surprised to find almost all of the Warblers in the room, just sitting together. Candles are burning on the table, on shelves and the kitchen counter, and everyone is sitting there in silence, smiling and being together with friends, a calm meditation before going to bed or driving back home.

Kurt and Blaine greet them with silent waves and small smiles. They are tired, and they agree by just a few looks that they don't want to stay and be any more social today. Blaine looks at Nick and Jeff, wordlessly asking if everything went okay. The boys smile and give Blaine two thumbs up. Nick is curled up in the couch, with his head resting on Jeff's shoulder, and one leg stretched across Jeff's lap. Jeff is running a soothing hand up and down his shin. When they equally soundless return the question, Blaine carefully shakes his head, but smiles slightly. It's been a rough day, but everything's okay now.

They reach for the other's hand as they turn to go back to their rooms. Fingers twined, they climb up the last stairs. A hug in front of Kurt's room, before they separate.

Kurt minimizes his skin care regime tonight. He's exhausted, and he just wants to go to bed. He washes his face with a cleanser, brushes and flosses his teeth, and then applies a lotion to prevent dry skin as a reaction to the cleanser. In his room, he changes to pyjamas pants and a t-shirt, before nestling safely under the covers in his bed.

When the bathroom door opens without a knock ten minutes later, Kurt isn't surprised. The day has been so intense, and it feels strange ending it by himself. Blaine shambles over the floor, wearing navy pyjamas. Without hesitation, he climbs into bed. They navigate and shuffle until they're lying on their sides, facing each other. Blaine is resting one arm over Kurt's waist, the other holding Kurt's hand in a loose grip, gently caressing his knuckles with his thumb. Kurt's other hand is resting on Blaine's chest, over his heart.

They are staring at each other, sweet smiles on both boys' lips. Blaine's eyes are so warm and filled with that look Kurt has never been quite able to identify, but he wants to know what it means, he yearns to be right. If he is, it's the same emotions he thinks his eyes are showing Blaine, when he feels too much and isn't able to hide it. This boy, who means more than anything, more than life, to Kurt.

Blaine's the one Kurt is absolutely certain he wants as a constant in his life. He's already given him so much, and Kurt can only hope he will be able to give some of it in return. Kurt _wants_ to give of himself to Blaine, and he wants to become a better person with Blaine. He never knew happiness until he met Blaine, as cliché as it sounds. A crush seems too childish, so tiny and negligible, yet love seems so mature, overwhelming and scary, and Kurt doesn't think he's there yet. He likes Blaine. Of course he does, but he likes strawberries and Santana and spring too. Maybe he doesn't have to put words to it. They haven't put words to anything else today, but been content with touches and actions. Maybe that's the answer to most questions. Even the scary questions. But maybe Kurt can have some more courage today.

The boys have moved even closer, and Kurt has somehow gotten a leg between Blaine's. The other boy is tenderly caressing Kurt's cheek with his fingertips, and Kurt doesn't remember when he moved his hand to aimlessly play with Blaine's hair.

Kurt's eyes are still focused on Blaine's face, though. His dark, warm, expressive eyes. His characteristic eye brows. His soft, tan skin. His cute nose. His strong chin. His jaw, where Kurt sometimes can see stubble if Blaine forego shaving during the weekend. A few stray curls along his temple who have escaped from the prison of hair gel. He enjoys watching this face, so open and vulnerable for Kurt. The mask he saw Blaine put on before they arrived at McKinley is long gone. This is a naked Blaine, all for Kurt. Kurt lets his index finger caress Blaine's jaw line, because it is a substitute, although a poor one, when all he can think about is kissing him. Kurt looks back to Blaine's eyes, but they don't meet his. They are focused a bit lower, and oh…

Kurt waits until Blaine lifts his eyes to his, and then slowly lowers his eyes to focus on Blaine's lips. He tilts his eyes upwards again, looking at Blaine through his eye lashes. Blaine's eyes meet his, before they flick downwards again. When their eyes meet next, it's as if a magnetic force is pulling them towards each other. Their heads are closer, closer, and don't stop until they can feel the other's hitching breath on their lips. Their visions are swimming from being too close, and both lower their eye lids before closing the last gap, letting their lips meet.

* * *

**Lyrics** **from/songs mentioned:**

Brandi Carlile - _The Story  
_Nickelback – _If Today Was Your Last Day  
_Blaine's guitar piece: _Spanish Romance_


	43. Everything

**AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your encouragement and support after the last two chapters - those were the first I wrote for this story (and I have constantly edited them for the 11 months that's gone since I uploaded the first chapter), and it was my vision for this story. And here we are...**

**I had some reviewers I couldn't respond to, but I appreciate any kind of feedback!**

**And because I was asked: Yes, Day of Silence is a real thing. I'm not American, so I don't know everything about it and don't have first hand experience with the day yet, but there are a lot of informative sites for those interested in participating. Sadly, I haven't found any information about it being done in Europe - but I plan to have my own Day of Silence at the same day, this year.**

**HEADS UP: I haven't seen every episode of season 4, as they are behind where I live, so PLEASE avoid any kind of spoilers, pretty please with cherry on a top!**

**Cookie alert: Cyber chocolate chip cookie to those who catches the reference for Blaine's quote without the aid of any random search engine.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, but enjoy playing with them.**

* * *

Kurt doesn't know what time it is when he wakes up, and he doesn't even know why he woke up. It still has to be early morning, considering how tired and tightly wound he feels. He's pretty sure it's Saturday, so he should embrace the possibility to sleep in. The last weeks have been stressful, and he can need the rest; his poor batteries are borderline abused and need recharging and care.

He stretches from head to toe, sighing deeply. He fists the pillow a couple of times to fluff it up, and tries to turn around. Something's constricting him, though, and he stiffens for a moment, until realizing an arm has tightened its hold around his waist, and a warm body is pressed against his back. It's all it takes for Kurt to remember.

They kissed last night!

After a long and emotional Day of Silence, they had snuggled up in bed to finish the day the same way it began – together, in silence. And then, finally, they had kissed, both of them just floating into it. Kurt grins, thinking he's probably flushing bright red, but it doesn't matter, because he thinks he can still feel his lips tingling.

The kiss was hesitant and searching, because they were inexperienced. But it soon grew reassuring and eager, because they both wanted it so badly. It had been sweet and tender, tasting vaguely of cookies and coffee, Blaine's cologne teasing Kurt's nostrils, his fist full of Blaine's newly gel-escaped hair. They had kissed… Gosh, at least 17 times, not that Kurt had been counting, he just wanted to remember each and every single one, tuck them securely to the back of his mind and to his heart, to be able to reminisce during bad days. Because he had no doubt in his mind, even while kissing Blaine, that he'd still have bad days ahead of him. But his very romantic clichéd self had decided it would be fine in the end if he had Blaine to kiss it all better again.

Because kissing Blaine… Kurt muffles his giggles in the pillows, resisting a need to make kicky-feet or jump in his bed. The same bed where Blaine is sleeping pressed close to him. Kurt restrains himself, inhaling deeply to calm down, trying to sink even further into the mattress, and just _feel_. He feels Blaine's breath against his neck, and some stray curls are tickling his temple. Blaine's head is tucked close to his own, and his chest is perfectly sculpted against Kurt's back, as if their bodies are meant to fit like that. It's warmth, it's closeness, it's intimate, it's all good. Blaine's arm is holding him tight; fingers sprawled over his lower ribs.

He lets the heavy drowsiness succumb him, almost taking him back under to sleep. He revels in the sensation of lying in the arms of his most favourite boy ever. Blaine's all warm and firm against him; and Kurt lets himself imagine the roles reversed, him wrapped around Blaine, just _feeling_ him. Or to just turn over so he can be able to _see_, not only combining memory and imagination to know what's behind him. He thinks he's doing a pretty good job with that, though, because he's spent some time studying Blaine these months, to say the least.

But that… Kurt stiffens. That's something he doesn't recognize or hasn't visualized. Something pressing against his derrière. He does a mental inventory of Blaine's body. His feet and knees are further down, one arm is wrapped around him, and the other is resting along the headboard. So that just leaves…

Blaine's standing to attention, saluting the morning sun. Against him, in his bed. Kurt's body goes rigid. Careful not to stir Blaine, he lifts his arm slightly, replacing himself with a pillow as he crawls shakily out of bed, feeling his breath stutter. He silently slips out of the room, and has to rest against the closed door to catch his breath for a moment. When he feels confident his feet can carry him, he darts down the hallway, until he reaches the door he needs.

He doesn't knock, but simply opens the door and steps in, trying to make some noise. He's relieved to see there's only one person sleeping in the bed. Kurt sits down on the bed by Nick's feet, patiently waiting for the other boy to notice his presence and wake up. Well, he's actually not so patient when all comes to all, so he starts to wiggle Nick's feet.

"G't'off…" the other boy mumbles, not giving any other sign of being awake.

"Nick," Kurt sniffs, and said boy bolts up to a sitting position.

"Kurt, oh my God, what's wrong?" he exhales, blinking confused, and looking warily at Kurt.

Kurt is not crying, he's merely slightly upset, confused and scared. He sniffs once more.

"Can we talk?" he asks, ignoring the stupidity of such a question after having woken up the boy.

"Of course," Nick immediately answers, looking softly and more awake at Kurt. "Come here," he pats, and gestures for Kurt to take his seat under the covers next to him, while lightening the bed lamp. They lean against the wall, and Kurt is glad he doesn't have to look straight at Nick, and lets his gaze wander around the room. It lands on the empty bed in Nick's room, and Kurt is suddenly glad his roommate transferred earlier this semester. Otherwise, this might have been really awkward, not merely slightly awkward.

"What's wrong, Kurt?" Nick softly asks, and gently lays a hand on Kurt's bent knee.

"We kissed!" he exhales in a puff, staring wide eyed at Nick.

"That's usually considered a good thing," Nick says hesitantly.

"But I don't know what it means!" Kurt interrupts him, slightly hysterical. "Are we dating now? Have we been dating without knowing it? Are we boyfriends now? Or didn't it mean anything and I'm being a brat making a big deal of it?"

Nick takes the rambling Kurt's hand, trying to get his attention to calm him down.

"And oh my God!" Kurt looks petrified, and bites down on the knuckles of the hand Nick isn't holding. Nick pries the hand out of Kurt's mouth. "What if… What if we _are_ boyfriends now?"

"Don't you want that?" Nick asks, obviously confused and concerned.

"I… I thought I wanted to. But now Blaine's going to…" Kurt takes a moment to swallow heavily. "…he'll want to have sex with me," he rushes out, "and I can't do that, and I'll ruin everything, and I'll lose him as a boyfriend before we even begun, and he'll refuse to be my friend, and fuck, I'm going to lose him, Nick, but I can't have sex with him yet either!" Kurt's voice is shrill by now.

His ramblings are interrupted by Nick cupping his face, forcing him to look at him.

"Calm down," he says sternly.

Kurt wants to object, but stops when Nick pointedly shakes his head.

"Listen to me," he says. "You should talk to Blaine about this, I can't answer all of those questions, and there are things the two of you have to sit down and talk about. But I can promise you, you don't have to be afraid of sex. Blaine is a good guy; he'd never force you to do anything you don't want to do," he says as if he's explaining something to a child, and Kurt feels embarrassed, as if he's been told by a parent they're disappointed in him.

"I know…" he sighs. "He's too much of a gentleman to push me. But he'll still want and maybe expect it, and I just can't," he explains, feeling so utterly lost and helpless. And he isn't that naïve and innocent, he knows _those things_ happen, of course, he's a teenage boy. It's just a bit more daunting and somewhat too real when it happens in your bed, but not to your body.

"Kurt… It's not like he's going to want to jump you within the next 24 hours. There's no rush, I'm certain Blaine feels the same."

"But…" Kurt objects dejectedly. "You and Jeff had sex as soon as you started dating."

"Oh honey," Nick sighs, "we had sex _before_ we started dating, remember? We started in the wrong end, but the sex is good, so there was no point stopping just because we began calling the other our boyfriend," Nick grins wickedly. "But there are things we haven't done yet, and we're saving it for sometime special. I don't know if I'm ready to go all the way yet either," Nick shrugs.

"The couples in New Directions seem to have a lot of sex," Kurt mutters stubbornly.

"Yes, and they get pregnant and cheat on each other as well. Nice role models?" Nick rolls his eyes. "Kurt. You've always been proud, even adamant, to stick out and not be like everybody else. Why are you suddenly so concerned with other people's sex lives?"

Kurt is silent for a while.

"I don't want to screw this up, whatever it is. I've never done anything like this before," he whispers, and Nick instantly wraps him up in a tight embrace.

"Kurt, there's no right or wrong in this game, as long as you and Blaine don't hurt each other."

Kurt nods against his shoulder to let him know he hears him.

"I'd be happy to help you and tell you stuff, but first and foremost you have to talk with Blaine."

"I wouldn't know where to start…"

"He's your boyfriend, and your best friend, I'm pretty sure you can tell him anything."

"Do you… Do you think we're boyfriends?" Kurt looks expectantly and hopefully at him.

"Have you seen Blaine throw himself to a lot of guys while you've been here, kissing any random guy he meets?"

Kurt blushes, but shakes his head.

"So tell me," Nick grins. "Was the kiss any good?"

"Yes…" Kurt sighs stupidly. "All of them were," he giggles, and Nick bumps his shoulder against his.

* * *

He can't remember the last time he felt this thoroughly happy with his life. Blaine's been waking up slowly, gently brought back to consciousness by the morning sun slipping through the cracks of the curtains. It had given him enough time to acknowledge that it hadn't been a dream – no, last night Kurt and he had kissed.

So Blaine had done the only sensible thing; staying in bed with his eyes closed to relive it all, before seeking out Kurt and check if morning kisses could hold a candle to bedtime kisses.

He's probably looking either blissed or stone with his closed eyes, goofy grin and flushed cheeks. But he can't care.

The moment their lips touched for the first time had taken his breath away. It had been hesitant and questioning, but growing more certain and oh so caring when they both felt confident the other really wanted the same. Knowing he was finally kissing Kurt had been monumental.

Their lips had separated momentarily, giving them a chance to _see_ each other. They didn't allow each other even a giggle, still under the spell of Day of Silence. But Kurt's shy, crooked smile and glazed eyes had spoken volumes. Blaine had cupped his cheek, and it had brought Kurt back to him with a sharp inhale, before their lips met again. This time more insistent and daring.

Blaine wishes he could remember every single detail and recount for them in the right order, but it's all a tumble of sensory overload. He remembers so much, but it's impossible to give a proper transcript of it. He remembers Kurt's lips tasting like citrus lip balm. His mouth tasted of toothbrush, and vaguely of the coffee they stopped for halfway between Lima and Dalton, ordered by writing on a napkin and taken out to the car immediately, not wanting anything to impose on their bubble. And above all those fragrances, it had been something indescribable and magnificent, something that could only be _Kurt_. Kurt's scent was of his usual toiletries; the shower gel and cologne and other products Blaine already recognized, and had gotten whiffs of countless times before. But to inhale the scents while kissing, while brushing his nose across Kurt's cheeks, while holding him closer and touching more skin – strictly above the neckline of Kurt's t-shirt, thank you very much - than he'd ever done before; that was something else entirely.

Oh, and it had all been so innocent, but overwhelming. They were and are stumbling through this together, and Blaine can't fathom how he'll ever survive _feeling_ more than he did last night. Lying on their sides, their feet knitted together, faces so close they shared breath whenever they weren't kissing. He can still feel Kurt's hand in his hair, just loosely holding a fistful of curls while brushing his fingertips soothingly against Blaine's scalp. The other hand had been resting on top of Blaine's frantically beating heart, or tickling him in all the best ways along his neck and throat, where Blaine was certain his jugular was throbbing hard enough to lure in every vampire in a 4.000 miles radius.

Blaine remembers cupping Kurt's face with both of his hands, as if he couldn't quite believe that he was allowed to kiss the boy, that it was actually happening, and he needed to be as close as possible, touching as much as possible. Eventually, one hand had slid down under Kurt's arm to rest on his shoulder blade, holding him firmly, daring to push them chest to chest.

Basically, Blaine is speechless, and that is an interesting change from his usual rambling when he's overwhelmed. He's floating, his heart is beating faster than a little bird's, he can't stop smiling, his lips are tingling, and maybe he really is high.

They had kissed until they fell asleep, and it was probably considered indecent to spend the night together so soon – but it's not as if it was the first time they ended up spending the night in the same bed, and nothing happened except for some more goodnight-kisses and cuddling. But still… Knowing that they had kissed and would kiss again made everything feel… more. As if lying in the same bed suddenly had an entire meaning and importance than before. They probably should have a talk about what they feel comfortable with and not after this wonderful change between them.

Blaine stretches, yawns, and with tired eyes barely cracked open rummages the bedside table for Kurt's phone to see what time it is. He hopes they haven't overslept for breakfast; neither remembered to set any alarm clocks. Luckily, the phone confirms they still have hours to go.

Wanting to see his boyfriend again, Blaine silently turns over where he expects to find Kurt. It's then he realizes that he's alone in bed. A pillow is lying on the floor; otherwise, the room looks as usual. Confused, he gets out of bed. There's no light shining under the bathroom door, but he knocks anyway. No response, but he knocks again. Still no response, so he slowly opens the door.

"Kurt?" he says softly to announce his arrival, in case he's in there. They're hardly at the place in their relationship where it's okay to walk in on each other, no matter what they're doing in the bathroom. Blaine can't find Kurt in his own room either, not that he knows why Kurt would be in Blaine's room. But he had to check, and now he's worried. And he feels bad for not waking up and noticing Kurt leaving. What kind of friend – or boyfriend – is that, if you don't notice the other?

He double checks Kurt's room, and his car keys are in their usual place. Nothing seems to be missing. So he rushes to the common's room, knowing Kurt can be a stress baker. Or maybe he's watching TV or resting in front of a roaring fire, Blaine desperately hopes. The TV screen is black, the fire has been dead for days with the mild spring sun outside, and there's not a fragment of freshly baked goods to see.

Blaine's last option with his still somewhat sleep-muddled brain is to check with Nick. Kurt has bonded with the boy and grown close to him, and they are fairly often seen together, at least when Blaine is busy with student politics or fencing. If Nick doesn't know anything, Blaine will have to sit down and actually think.

He knocks on Nick's door, and because he can see light shining through, he opens the door before he gets a response, praying Jeff is in his own room, or they are at least decent. But he's too worried about Kurt to care about manners right now.

* * *

"I'm sorry to burst in, but I saw the light was on, and I need to ask if you've seen Kurt…" a distraught looking Blaine stumbles in through the door, but stops abruptly when two boys sitting on the bed are noticed.

"Huh. I suddenly feel like spending the rest of the night in my boyfriend's arms. Oh well, I'd better see if Jeff will let me. Tata," Nick smiles innocently, and leaves them alone.

Kurt pulls the cover further up over his shoulders, to prevent Blaine from noticing how his hands are shaking.

"I woke up, and you weren't there," Blaine says hesitantly. "And you weren't in our bathroom, or in my room, or in the common's room. So I got scared…"

Kurt looks up at the other boy's open and honest expression, and he does look scared, hesitant and so vulnerable. Maybe Kurt isn't the only one wondering what they're doing?

"Do you want to join in the warmth?" Kurt offers softly, patting the space next to him.

Blaine slowly steps into the bed, careful not to jostle anything or anyone. He tucks the cover safely around his body, sitting a foot from Kurt.

"I freaked out," Kurt blurts out ineloquently, surprising himself. He didn't exactly plan to initiate their conversation like that.

"I kind of expected that," Blaine surprises Kurt. "But not in the middle of the night."

"You expected me to freak out?" Kurt asks through narrow eyes, feeling slightly insulted.

Blaine turns slightly towards Kurt.

"_I know you_, Kurt. I know you're afraid of changes, and I know you hate not to be in control. I don't regret anything that happened yesterday, but in hindsight maybe it should have been during a day of communication," he explains sheepishly.

Kurt chuckles awkwardly.

"I don't know if that would have helped; I don't know what I need to say, my brain's a mess."

"I have a couple of things I'd like to say," Blaine offers, and Kurt nods to encourage him.

"I'm hopeless with romance," Blaine chuckles self-deprecatingly, shaking his head. "I can be oblivious, and I let my fears control me," he admits, looking at Kurt. He takes one of the boy's hands in his own. "But then I just reached that moment where I had to tell myself 'hey, he's right there, you had been looking for him forever when he showed up at that staircase.' Watching you brave McKinley yesterday… that was a moment for me… about you. And me," he adds, swallowing heavily. "You move me, Kurt, and you inspire me to wanting to be brave. You have for such a long time, beginning with the Christmas Ball. And I'm just tired of being afraid. I constantly look for yet another excuse to spend more time with you. I don't want any more silly excuses. I just want to be. With you."

Kurt is silent for a long time, staring wide eyed at Blaine, his jaw slack and mouth hanging open. You just don't get speeches like that every day. He twines their fingers together.

"I'm a hopeless romantic," he eventually says. "I can be selfish, and I let my determination blind me. And this scares the shit out of me; I haven't got a clue how I'm supposed to do this. I don't know what we're doing. I haven't done this before, and I'm afraid of not being good enough." The words tumble out, as if they had been waiting to be let out.

"You're more than I could dream up," Blaine reassures him, sounding dazed. "I don't know what I'm doing either. But maybe we could find out of this together?" he asks eagerly, but still holding back, as if he's expecting Kurt to reject him.

"I'd like that," Kurt says softly, looking at him through his eyelashes. "And you're by far better than anything my imagination can construct, and I have quite a vivid imagination," Kurt adds, blushing profoundly.

Blaine grins, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter, but he leans in to quickly kiss Kurt, so he chooses to assume it's a happy laughter, and not mocking Kurt-laughter. And if sweet kisses are going to be Blaine's response, Kurt can be quite okay with dropping cheesy, obvious flirty lines like that.

Kurt yawns, and Blaine briefly tightens their hands' hold.

"Do you want to go back to our rooms to sleep? There is still time before breakfast."

"You… You could stay here?" Kurt suggests, feeling too tired to move out of Nick's bed.

"Okay," Blaine says softly, and they shuffle around to lay down the right way. They navigate so Blaine is the big spoon, and every touch and movement is so careful and controlled it makes Kurt relax. He seems to be not the only one not ready to rip their clothes off any minute. Blaine's arm is resting across Kurt's waist, and they've laced their fingers together again.

Kurt feels silly, but he has to ask, he has to know, he needs the reassurance and confirmation.

"Blaine? Are... Are we a thing now?"

"Darling, we're everything," Blaine immediately replies, planting a soft kiss where Kurt's shoulder meets his neck.

Kurt can't help but beam maniacally at Blaine's quote, and tightens his hold on his hand, shuffling even closer. Blaine's pretty much perfect.

* * *

The next time Kurt wakes up, he's on his back with Blaine's head on his chest, and the boy sprawled on his stomach effectively pinning Kurt to the mattress with his starfish approach. Kurt doesn't mind. At all.

He runs a hand through Blaine's loose curls, the way he's wanted to for so long. Finally he can allow himself everything he's held back and censured so far. Because they. Are. Boyfriends! He can't help the giggles that escape, and he unconsciously tightens the grip in Blaine's hair.

"What's funny?" Blaine murmurs drowsily without moving.

"I though you were asleep," Kurt exhales, feeling caught red handed.

"I was. But it turns out being awake is much better than my dreams," he sighs pleased, moving a hand to caress Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt boldly wraps his arms around Blaine's torso, tightening them to hold the boy as close as possible. It's weird, because not that much has changed. He was confident about how Blaine felt about him, no big surprises there, although the speech some hours ago had been pretty spectacular. Finally deciding to be boyfriends seems like a gradual and logical development, a slow burn that ended in fireworks. And yet everything has changed. It's not the first time they've cuddled, but somehow everything feels so much more. It's as if all of his senses and nerve cells are on high alert, taking in more than they've ever perceived before, and magnifying it to something that take Kurt's breath away. He feels overwhelmed in all the best ways, and that's just from having his boyfriend in his arms. His boyfriend!

Blaine lifts his head from Kurt's chest, meeting his eyes. He looks all dreamy-eyed and sated.

"Good morning," he murmurs.

"It is," Kurt agrees, smiling crookedly.

Blaine leans in slowly, as if he's giving Kurt a chance to stop him, but why on earth would he want to do that? They kiss chastely, and Kurt can actually feel Blaine smile against his lips. Kurt breaks it faster than he'd like, but he's concerned.

"Morning breath," he whispers, speaking to the side of Blaine's head to avoid numbing him with his carbon dioxide.

"Don't care," Blaine whispers, nuzzling along Kurt's jaw line.

Kurt doesn't get to answer, because there's a knock on the door. He expects Blaine to jump off of him to erase this compromising position, but the boy simply rests his head on Kurt's chest again, looking in the direction of the door. He's come further than Kurt thought.

"Come in," Blaine calls softly.

The door is immediately opened, and Nick peaks his head through the narrow opening. When he spots them both in bed, smiling and embracing, he enters the room completely, grinning.

"So," he says.

"So?" Kurt raises his eyebrows.

"So, can I congratulate you?"

"Yes, you may," Blaine beams, sitting up under the covers and pulling Kurt with him.

"Aww, the future Mr. and Mr. Hummel-Anderson," Nick chokes. "And I was there when it happened! Or, at least I think my bed was."

"I think it was my bed first and foremost, but we seem to be including several beds in this," Kurt muses.

Nick gives a rowdy laughter, and Blaine chuckles, wrapping an arm around Kurt's shoulder and pulling him closer. Kurt hides his pink face in Blaine's chest.

"I don't mean to be a spoilsport, but I kind of wanted my room back. I wouldn't mind borrowing one of yours instead, to let you be, but my books are here, so…."

"That's okay," Blaine reassures him. "We should probably get up, grab some breakfast."

"Good luck with that," Nick snorts.

"What do you mean? It's Saturday, breakfast is served until 10," Kurt objects.

"Time does fly when you're having fun," Nick grins smugly. "It's a quarter to eleven. You kids, sleeping the day away like that. If you weren't so freaking adorable and finally got your shit together, I'd have woken you up several hours ago. But you're probably at that incredibly annoying stage where you can't even feel hunger, and just want to gaze longingly into each other's eyes and make sweet kisses. Shoo, go do that in your own rooms," Nick waves them playfully out of his bed.

Giggling, the boys scoot out of bed, and bid Nick their goodbyes.

They walk silently back to their rooms, smiling bashfully at each other every time their knuckles or fingers brush against the other's. In front of Kurt's door, Blaine cups his cheek with one hand, the other resting on his waist, and he stands on his toes to kiss Kurt's forehead.

"See you later?"

"Of course," Kurt promises breathlessly.

Both boys are still in their pyjamas, and need to get the day started. Shower, skin care, teeth care, proper clothes. They should probably figure out what they missed in the classes they ditched yesterday to go to McKinley. They most definitely have a test on Monday to prepare. Kurt ought to call every single one of his friends to finally be the one to gush about a romance coming true. Then he must hurry to call his dad so he hears it from Kurt first, and Kurt can tell his dad how happy he is. If Nick hasn't taken care of it, there probably are some Warblers that should be informed. But the most important thing? There really, really needs to be more kisses today. Of that he is certain.

* * *

Kurt is still rummaging his wardrobe to figure out a proper outfit for the day. How does one dress to impress your brand new boyfriend, while also comfortably accommodate for potential cuddling-possibilities?

He's interrupted in his mental debate over the three pants he's narrowed it down to, when somebody knocks on his door.

"Hey," Blaine beams, looking all giddy, and rolling on the balls of his feet. He's already showered, and is wearing faded black pants, a colourful belt, and a maroon t-shirt tucked into his pants. And he must have decided spring is finally here, because he's not wearing any socks in his canvas shoes.

Well, hello ankles, Kurt inwardly greets. He'd never considered that particular part of Blaine to be as exciting as they turn out to be. Then again, right now any part of Blaine's body could probably be thrilling and new and enticing. Kurt is surprised to realize how hungry he is, craving both Blaine's touches and touching Blaine. Not in the butt-naked-bring-condoms-kind-of-way. But he wants to hold his hands. He wants to trace his fingers and be acquainted with calluses and knuckles and skin and details. He wants to feel if his nose is as soft as it looks. He wants to brush a finger along his jaw line, and he wants to remind himself how Blaine smells when he nuzzles against his neck.

"Hi," Kurt smiles, resting against the doorframe, still in his pyjamas. It's probably not good posture at all, but he's kind of weak in his knees today. How odd…

Blaine leans in and kisses him sweetly, and oh, that's right. They can do that now!

"I know it's short notice, but would you like to accompany me for brunch in an hour or so?" Blaine looks eager, a tiny bit nervous, but mostly happy.

"I'd love to," Kurt airily replies, knowing he couldn't have wiped off his silly grin if someone paid him to do so.

"Good, it's a date, then."

"It's a date?" Kurt smirks, nibbling at the side of his lower lip and looking at Blaine through his eyelashes. He could get used to this kind of flirting.

"It's a date," Blaine confirms with a nod, a faint blush painted across his cheekbones. He leans in yet again, lips brushing lips.

"I fear I may be developing an addiction to doing this," he whispers against Kurt mouth, kisses him again, before disappearing bouncingly down the hallway.

"Me too…" Kurt murmurs, floating back to his room. He looks at the three pants he was choosing between, and squeaks. What on earth do you wear for your first date, when you've only got an hour to get ready?

* * *

**AN: I can see an end to this story. There are still chapters left, but not all that many (I won't say a number, 'cause I always end up making wrong calculated guesses, and sometimes the boys insist on adding things to the chapter). But - for me to be able to round up this properly, I need to ask you guys a question: _Would you be interested in a sequel?_ We'd follow the boys through their senior year in high school. We'd be experiencing things like Glee competitions, fluff, fun, a festival, pranks, New Direction, Warblers, parties, new canon character(s?) brought to the story, a great adventure, a wedding, and a lot of other things my mind might come up with. I have a lot of ideas, but there's no point for me to write if nobody wants to read it.**


	44. Frenemies

**AN: Guess what! April 16th 2012 I uploaded the first chapter for this story, so how about a quick chapter in celebration of this anniversary? I should be studying for my exam, but...**

**Thank you so much for all the overwhelming feedback after last chapter - I see no other option than you give you wonderful people the sequel!**

**Warning: I'm not up to date on season 4, so please no spoilers.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Could have done a lot different with it if I did, though...**

* * *

Blaine suggested brunch _in an hour or so_, and as soon as 60 minutes are up, he returns to Kurt's room. He really hopes the boy is ready to go, because they've already spent too much time apart. After last night, Blaine feels like an addict, and he needs his fix.

He knocks on the door. Usually he'd enter Kurt's room through their shared bathroom, but suddenly it feels intrusive. He wants to respect and honour the boy, and to burst into his room at any moment is hardly proper behaviour for a gentleman.

"Hey," Kurt beams at him, sounding breathless. He looks impeccable in a stunning outfit and perfectly coiffed hair. Blaine can't help but let his eyes wander appreciatively from head to toes.

"Hey," Blaine murmurs back, taking both of Kurt's hands in his. He brushes his lips against the knuckles of one of them. He's always wanted to do that. It's such a romantic gesture, in his opinion. "You look terrific," he murmurs, willing his blush away. But he needed to say those words, because his boyfriend truly looks great.

"Thank you," Kurt blushes. "So do you," he says, tightening his hold of Blaine's hands.

"Are you ready to leave?"

"I need two more minutes," Kurt nods, disentangling their hands and stepping back into his room. "Just two minutes," he promises, two fingers in the air and disappearing into the bathroom.

Blaine doesn't quite know what to do, so he remains in the door opening, waiting patiently for Kurt.

Soon after, Kurt returns to his room, and pockets his phone and wallet.

"Why are you standing there? You could have come in and sat down. It's not like you haven't been here before," Kurt says quizzically.

"I didn't know if it'd be appropriate," Blaine mumbles, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

Kurt steps up to him, as he finishes buttoning a light jacket.

"Please don't make this, what we do now, weird," Kurt pleads. "I don't want to lose my best friend, and we've always been so comfortable with each other. I really, really like what we've done the last 24 hours. But I want to see it as additions and improvements of what we already have, not drastic changes."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Blaine swallows.

Kurt steps even closer, and when he rests a hand on Blaine's chest, it makes his heart stutter.

"I adore your manners," Kurt murmurs. "You're of a unique brand, and it's adorable," he says, blushingly. "I like how much of a gentleman you are and how you make me feel so special. But you don't have to stop doing what was part of our routines when we were friends. You should be able to sit in my room and wait while I do the finishing touches in the bathroom – just like you've done several times before. I like how easy things have been between us so far. Even though some wonderful things have changed, we don't have to change everything."

Kurt's cheekbones are dusted in a red sprinkling, but his eyes are looking steady at Blaine, and his voice is unfaltering.

"I'll try," Blaine promises. "I'm just a tad overwhelmed, and want to do right by you."

"You don't have to change; just continue to be the boy I like," Kurt says, adding more colour to his face.

"I like you too," Blaine cups his cheek, and slowly leans in, as if to check it's okay, before letting their lips meet.

Someone is humming softly against the other's mouth, it could be Kurt and it could be Blaine. They break apart at the sound of Blaine's growling stomach, giggling.

"You said something about brunch?" Kurt teases, lowering his hand to rest on Blaine's waist. A shiver runs through Blaine at the feeling of Kurt's fingers brushing down his torso, even over three layers.

"I did," he exhales. Determinedly, he takes Kurt's hand in his, and escorts him to his car. They don't say anything on their walk, but the silence is comfortable. They really don't need any words, when holding hands and walking close like this already speak volumes.

Blaine opens the car door for Kurt, and doesn't close it until he sees the boy is properly buckled up. He really hopes this isn't among the things Kurt didn't want to see changed, because Blaine enjoys doing these things. But by the look of Kurt's pleased smile, despite of his rolling eyes, Blaine likes to believe this is okay.

The car ride isn't far, they're only going downtown. As their usual habit, the one not driving is in control of the music. He settles down with a radio station playing the latest hits, and they quickly fall into their pattern of singing along; dueting or alternating on solo and harmonies.

Blaine finds an available space for the car, and hurries out to open the door for Kurt again. It's a beautiful Saturday in Westerville, and the streets are crowded. He swallows heavily. This is one of those situations he's dreaded, made him reluctant to be Kurt's boyfriend so far.

Kurt steps out of the car, and smiles comfortingly at Blaine. He takes his hand, hidden between their bodies, and gives it a firm, quick grip.

"No pressure, no expectations," he smiles.

"I don't want to disappoint you," Blaine whispers.

"I'm just happy to be here with you. We take this in the pace we both feel comfortable with."

"You're amazing!"

"You know, there may be things I need to take slower than you would too," Kurt says hesitantly, and Blaine senses there's a story behind that, but he won't address it now. Today is about their first date, and enjoying the moment.

They walk silently down the shopping street, shoulders and fingers occasionally brushing against each other. There's no need to speak, because the proximity is more than enough. Knowing the other is close, is there, is all they need right now.

Kurt follows, without asking any questions, just letting Blaine lead the way. He jumps up the three steps and opens the old white door, and it's almost comforting how it still creaks and doesn't quite fit the door frame. _Granny's_ has been Blaine's comfort zone and escape whenever he's felt sad, exhausted or for other reasons needed to hide away from the world. Stepping in to _Granny's_ is like entering another century.

Blaine remembers taking Kurt to the very same café right after he transferred to Dalton; the same day he bought him the big mirror as a housewarming gift. He can't fathom how much have changed in those six months.

He steps to the side to let Kurt in before him, and rests a hand on the small of Kurt's back. When Kurt initially came to Dalton, he was so covered in bruises and wounds everything hurt, and his arm was in a cast so Blaine had to help him.

There's a short line, and they patiently join it. They're standing side by side, and Blaine hasn't removed his hand from Kurt's back. He looks at Blaine with warm eyes and a soft smile, and Blaine rubs his thumb over Kurt's jacket, hoping he can feel the gesture through all the layers.

The bell over the door announces a new customer's arrival, and Blaine instantly drops his hand. He's too embarrassed to meet Kurt's eyes, but the boy bumps him with his hip, forcing him to look up anyway. Kurt's still smiling, and his eyes are still warm and something Blaine would like to drown in.

"It's okay," he mouths, and takes a step forward to follow the shrinking line.

"What would you like?" Blaine asks instead, watching Kurt taking in all the delicious food on display on the old fashioned merchant disk, and then skimming the menu written in chalk on the wall.

"Undecided," Kurt laughs thrillingly. "This place is too much."

As they slowly come nearer the counter for each waitered customer, Blaine is watching Kurt from the corner of his eye. He just can't fully comprehend that he now gets to call this magnificent person his boyfriend. Blaine will have to step up to even resemble what Kurt deserves.

"Can I help you, boys?" an old lady asks, and Blaine instantly recognizes her as the owner. She was the one who had shown him kindness and offered hot chocolate on the house the first time he came here, scared and sad. He briefly wonders if she remembers him, but quickly drops the thought. He's one of a million customers since then, and the gesture probably meant nothing to her. But it meant the world to him.

"I'd like the chicken salad, please," Kurt orders.

Nick was right. Blaine isn't feeling hungry at all. His tummy may have growled, but he hasn't any appetite, nothing tempts him. He just wants to grab Kurt and take him back to Dalton, to spend time together alone.

"I'd like the same, please," Blaine says to avoid making a decision.

"And would you like anything to drink?" the old lady smiles, and Blaine really wishes he knew her name. Oh well, in his mind, she's been 'Granny' all this time.

Kurt delivers his order and Blaine absentmindedly, but polite asks for the same.

"I thought you didn't like peach ice tea?" Kurt says, looking oddly at Blaine.

"I don't," Blaine says, noticing 'Granny' is watching them with poorly hidden amusement.

"But that's what you just ordered."

"Oh… Oh! I'll just have some ice water, then," he changes his order.

He pays for the food before Kurt can even find his wallet, and 'Granny' promises to bring their food shortly. They walk up the narrow and creaky stairs to the second floor. It's a busy day, as expected with the crowded streets and waiting line, so there's no available seats for them in front of any of the roaring fire places. Not that it's needed this warm spring day, but it would have added a romantic touch to their date.

They find a small table in a secluded corner, and Kurt has sat down before Blaine can even consider pulling out the chair for him. He doesn't know if he's relieved he didn't have to do it in such a public place, or if he's disappointed he didn't get to be a proper gentleman on their first date.

Under the table, Kurt traps one of his feet between his own, and Blaine moves his other foot so all four legs are interwoven and mingled. They sit silent for some time, just watching the other, shy smiles on their lips and blushes crawling over their cheeks.

Boldly, Blaine stretches his arms across the table to take Kurt's hands. He holds them gingerly, and with his thumb brushes Kurt's slender fingers. Rationally, he knows they sit so nobody can see them holding hands, but it's still somewhat daunting. But he tries to focus on the thrill and rush, savouring the excitement of holding hands with his _boyfriend_. Kurt's eyes are shining brightly, and he lets Blaine manhandle his hands.

They are too lost in each other, so neither notices 'Granny' approaching with their food on a tray. It isn't until she clears her throat they bolt apart. Looking amused, she sets down the plates with their chicken salads and a small basket of steaming garlic bread.

"Enjoy your food, boys," she says, and briefly pats Blaine's shoulder before leaving.

Blaine startles and looks after her as she leaves. He looks questioningly at Kurt, but the boy just shrugs. So he shakes his head, and focuses on the food.

"So I heard Wes wants the Warblers to perform _Raise Your Glass_ for PaFoD. How do you think that'll be received?" Kurt asks, and just like that, their usual easy and engaging conversation is back on track, even with their feet cuddling under the table.

* * *

They walk slowly back to the car, navigating through the crowd of shoppers and sun soakers in the street.

"I'll take you out for a proper date later, when I've had better time to plan it," Blaine promises as they approach the car and fewer people are around them.

Kurt stops abruptly.

"Blaine Devon Anderson," he says firmly, and Blaine has no choice but to turn around and face his boyfriend. And it's thrilling, having a boyfriend to face!

"Don't you dare telling me this is not a proper date," he says sternly. "This has been wonderful. You picked me up, walked me to your car, acted like a true gentleman, and took me to the quaintest place on earth where you treated me to brunch. I've never been on a date before, and today has been unforgettable."

"Are you sure?" Blaine asks, even though sufficiently scolded.

"I'm no floozy," he flutters his eyelashes, "but I'd say you've played your cards well enough to earn a kiss if you walk me to my door afterwards."

Blaine can't help laughing fullheartedly at that. 'Floozy' and 'Kurt' are two words he'd never imagine in the same sentence.

"I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, then. I honestly don't have anything else planned, but would you like to go for a walk or something? I'm not ready to go back to Dalton yet…"

"Me neither. Let's take a walk; it's such a beautiful day."

Blaine hums his agreement, and thinks about how it'll be to come back to school. He's not sure if Nick has told anybody, but he expects there will be ribbing and teasing and cheering whenever their friends find out. Part of him has no problem with that, even though he deliberately left his phone in his room. He's proud to be Kurt's, and he's already experienced his fair share of teasing comments about his obvious infatuation. He knows he'll feel bolder within the Dalton walls than he does here, and part of him can't wait to be somewhere where he won't hesitate to hold Kurt's hand even though they're among people. But another part of him wants to be alone with Kurt for some more, just soak it all up and get used to the idea of being his _boyfriend_. It's overwhelming, in all the best ways.

After he asked Kurt out this morning, part of him had wanted to seek out Wes and David to gush about Kurt. Another part of him had considered calling Toby to hear how his Day of Silence had been and reveal how his own Day turned. But in the end, Blaine had needed to be alone and digest it all. He'd lain down in bed, grinning like a fool at the ceiling, and when he realized he was going out on a date he'd had a fashion emergency. But the need to see Kurt again after the hour was out had pulled stronger than the wardrobe crisis.

His feet have taken him to a playground, and despite of the nice weather it's deserted. He takes Kurt's hand, and leads him over to one of the swings. He doesn't know if it is Day of Silence still having a hold of them, or what it is, but they are more silent today than usual. Maybe _feeling_ is sufficient today. It doesn't feel stilted or awkward, just calm and comfortable.

The swing is one of those bigger swings, with a seat looking like a spider web. It's probably dirty from children standing and climbing on it, but he doesn't care, and sits down, yanking Kurt with him. The boy lands in his lap; at least his clothes won't be soiled. Kurt half sits half lies on top of him, and Blaine kicks at the ground to make movement. Kurt's legs are longer, and he's sprawled further down, so he plants his feet to the ground and swings them back and to. Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt, and the boy laces their fingers together on both hands.

"This is nice," Kurt murmurs, and Blaine can only agree.

* * *

As predicted, Blaine walks Kurt to the door, and is thanked thoroughly with kisses. Kurt's gratefulness doesn't end until someone clears their throat next to them. Dazed, but bashful, they separate to see who caught them.

Nick is grinning at them, leaning nonchalantly against the wall next to Kurt's door, and Jeff is jumping up and down failing miserably at holding back his excited squeals.

"I told you they are a couple," Nick grins smugly at Jeff.

"Yeah, and you said so on April 1st, so forgive me for being doubtful," Jeff tries to sound stern, but he's too happy, and has to smack Nick's shoulder instead of a proper scolding to show his dismay "Please tell me you're official," he almost begs the newly coined boyfriends.

"Guys, this is my boyfriend, Kurt Hummel," Blaine beams, too ecstatic and proud to be able to make a joke of it.

Kurt lets out a loud oomph as Jeff glomps him. Nick offers Blaine both a high five and a bro fist, making Blaine laugh hysterically, because that is so not either of them. Jeff then attacks Blaine in the same manners, and Nick gives Kurt a proper hug. Blaine can see he whispers something in his boyfriend's ear, which makes Kurt nod and smile.

"You just lost me fifty bucks, but I'm happy for you anyway," Nick admits.

"What? Were you betting on us?" Kurt exclaims disbelievingly.

"Of course. Jeff thought you'd end up together before our Junior year is over, while I suspected it would take a long summer apart for you to get your act together, like it did for Jeff and me."

"I guess I should be relieved all of Warblers haven't made bets on us."

"Oh, but they have," Nick smirks. "We all made bets on a specific date, and the one closest will get 100 bucks from each."

"You're insane," Kurt mumbles.

"Who won?" Blaine asks curiously.

"I'm not sure, Thad has been keeping score."

Jeff decides it's about time for a group hug, and ploughs them all together.

"Are you guys ready for dinner, or have you eaten?" Nick says when he eventually manages to peal his own boyfriend off of the other.

"Blaine took me out for brunch," Kurt tells them as if it's a sacred secret.

"It was my pleasure," Blaine says, looking at Kurt, letting him decide what they'll do.

"I don't think I remember how to be hungry," Kurt muses, and Nick groans.

"I knew it," he mutters, but winks at them. "Okay, that's it. Jeff and I are now in charge of making sure you are properly fed. Despite common superstition, it is not possible to live on love and air alone."

Kurt slips his hand into Blaine's, and they walk with their friends to the dining hall. Nick and Jeff give them a quick recap of how Day of Silence played out at Dalton after they left for McKinley, and Blaine is listening. Mostly. He can't help being distracted by Kurt's thumb running over the back of his hand.

The four of them sit down by their usual table with their pork chops. Ten minutes later, David and Wes join them, complaining about Council business.

From there on, the conversation flows easily among the six friends. Despite his lack of hunger, Blaine finishes his food first, and leans back in his chair, resting his arm on the back of Kurt's chair. Absentmindedly, his fingers are tracing nonfigurative patterns on Kurt's shoulder blade, while he tries to listen to Wes and David discussing alternative uniforms for the PaFoD performance.

Kurt finishes his food, and leans back in his own chair, sliding it somewhat closer to Blaine. He looks up at him, and smiles tenderly.

"Wait a minute," Wes interrupts David's passionate speech defending their current uniforms. "Something is different. What have you done?" he says, drilling his eyes into Blaine's skull.

"You have to ask _who_ he's done," Nick laughs silently under his breath, but Blaine can still hear him.

"You're right," David agrees. "Something has changed."

Both boys are studying the couple, who are trying to maintain their poker faces just for the fun of it. Nick and Jeff are giggling in their seats.

Blaine tries to keep his eyes neutral, but he can't help glancing over at Kurt, and the moment he does he knows his face reveals it all. He's been able to hold back a lot for weeks and months, but now that they are finally together, it's as if his emotions have escaped and plaster themselves across his face whenever he looks at Kurt.

Kurt meets his eyes, smiles tenderly at him, and rests a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, I guess it's about time for Thad to settle the score on the bets, then," David says calmly.

"Holy sh… You're finally together, aren't you?" Wes asks eagerly. "So now you're going to buy puppies and adopt cute Chinese babies like me?"

"We haven't really had that talk yet," Blaine muses.

"There's just so much to take into consideration. Do we want to be the biological daddies? Whom will we ask to be a surrogate mom? Will we adopt? Is it faster and easier to just kidnap someone cute? The possibilities are endless," Kurt explains airily.

"Do we even want kids at all? Maybe we want to focus on our relationship and careers," Blaine adds. "So I'm sorry, Wes, but I doubt we'll be ready to consider adopting you before you turn 18."

"Mean men," Wes mutters.

"I for one hope this means we won't have to watch you stare longingly at the other and sighing wistfully from your misery any longer," David says calmly.

"Of course," Blaine agrees distractedly, staring at Kurt and brushing a hand over his cheek. He doesn't look away until he hears a loud thump, and finds David with his head on the table.

* * *

Sunday, they try to focus on their homework. They initially try to do them together, as usual, but kisses are too much of a temptation. They do try to structure themselves, and work seriously with their books in between study breaks for kissing. But there's no denying kissing is more enjoyable than English or math or geography. Soon their study breaks are longer than their study sessions. It's so easy to give in, and disappear in a happy bubble of kissing.

After lunch, they agree to study apart for the rest of the day, to make sure they actually get something done.

After dinner, though, they easily agree on a movie night for the rest of the hours before bedtime.

"Which movie would you like to see?" Blaine asks when they're back in his room.

"It doesn't matter," Kurt smiles, settling down in his bed.

"But I picked the last time, so it's your turn," Blaine insists.

"I really don't care what movie you put on," Kurt smiles, and there's something new in his smile Blaine can't really identify.

"If you don't want to watch a movie, we can do something else," he offers.

"Blaine," Kurt sighs. "Just pick a movie, get your ass back here, and let's see if the movie is sufficiently entertaining, or if something might distract us."

_Ooh... Oh!_

Blaine hurriedly picks the first DVD his fingers can grip, inserts it in the DVD-player, hits play on the remote, and skips back to his bed. He briefly notices he managed to pick _Moulin Rogue_. He hesitates for a moment next to his bed, but Kurt pats the mattress next to him and smiles so nicely, Blaine immediately plops down next to him.

"Are you done with your homework?" he asks Blaine.

Before Blaine can finish nodding, Kurt murmurs a "good" and leans in to kiss him. It's overwhelming in all the best way, and Blaine can't believe his luck. His boyfriend is absolute perfection! He might have worried he'd be a clingy boyfriend, with his tactile tendencies, but so far it seems as if Kurt wants and encourages this physical closeness when they are alone too. Before soon, they are lying down face to face, sharing sweet kisses and just breathing in the same air. There's so much more they could do, but for now this is more than enough for Blaine. With their legs entwined, hands slowly exploring arms and backs, fingers tracing face lines and running down the neck, lips tasting and feeling lips, his scent in Blaine's nose, listening to _Come What May_ in the background, but preferably listening to the tiny gasps and humming from Kurt when Blaine manages to do something particularly nice. And then, the moments when they tear apart and just lay still, taking the other in and sharing bashful smiles.

* * *

Monday morning, they walk hand in hand to breakfast. In the classes they share, they manage to focus and pay attention. But it is easier in the classes they don't share, although it leaves a slight ache in Blaine's chest of longing.

In between classes, they manage to find each other in the flow of uniform clad boys. It's as if magnets are constantly pulling them closer. Blaine walks Kurt to his classrooms, until Kurt softly explains that he hasn't been lost in this school for a long time, and maybe he could walk Blaine to some of his classes too. They refrain from kissing in the hallways; a silent, mutual agreement. But they hold hands, they flow in and out of the other's personal space in a way nobody else would do, and the looks they share speak volumes.

They of course walk together for Warbler practice, and sit down in one of the deep leather couches, so close their thighs are touching. Nobody else is in the room yet, so Blaine risks leaning even closer for a quick kiss.

"Hi," he murmurs.

"Hi," Kurt murmurs back, lips brushing against Blaine's.

Nick and Jeff come skipping soon after, grinning knowingly at them.

By the time Wes uses the gavel to inform them rehearsal is in session, they are already ten minutes late, which is very much out of character for the Council. Blaine doesn't mind, though, it's merely given him ten extra minutes to sit close to his boyfriend, soak up the warmth from his body and revel in it all. They may be spending the next hours dancing on different ends of the stage.

Thad is yapping about PaFoD, and Blaine is really trying to pay attention, but it's so difficult when nothing new is being told. It's a relief when somebody knocks on their door, so he can shake his head clear after having been numbed by one of the least informative speeches from a Council member ever.

David stands up to answer the door, and Wes is having the weirdest grin on his face.

"Warbler Blaine, you have visitors," David announces, and dismisses the boy to see his surprise guests. Blaine isn't expecting anyone, so he's truly curious. He quickly pats Kurt's knee, before leaving him.

Before he's even closed the door behind him, he's accosted by a group of people in all black. They're wearing hoodies or varieties of hats and dark sunglasses, so it should be difficult to identify them. But he's pretty certain he knows these people.

"Come with us; we have something to tell you," a strained deep voice from a very tall masculine figure announces.

"Okay," Blaine says, trying to hide his amusement, and walks freely with them even though he can feel at least three hands on his back shoving him after his boyfriend's stepbrother.

They lead him out of the building, and don't stop until they are by some benches surrounding a slowly blooming rose garden.

"For what it's worth; Kurt was a much better spy than you guys," he reveals, looking at each and every one of them.

"I told you we should have worn masks," Lauren grumps, and Puck supports her.

"Dolphins are smarter than sharks," Brittany shrugs, waving her hand linked with Santana.

Rachel clears her voice, and manages to make everybody shut up.

"Warbler Blaine, as you surely know, I have a very successful relationship with Warbler Wes, and we have no secrets between us. When he told me last night about the recent updates of the budding romance between you," she takes a moment to point almost accusingly at him, "and our own Kurt, I knew we had to leap to action."

"I'll take it from here, Rachel," Finn says softly, stepping up next to her.

"Don't say my name," she hisses, "there's no point in disguises if you reveal who we are!"

Finn ignores her, and addresses Blaine instead.

"Blaine, you're a cool dude. You've been a good friend to Kurt and helped him a lot with stuff. But he's my brother, and if you ever hurt him I'll hunt you down and do something very painful," Finn says seriously. He takes off his sunglasses to stare menacingly at him, and Blaine schools his expression to not mock Kurt's friends.

Finn steps back and the next in line gives Blaine their speech.

"Okay, Gargler, Kurt was our bitch first, and if you mess with him, you mess with all of us. Just saying," Puck glares, folding his arms across his chest and flexing his biceps in his black t-shirt.

"I know wrestling," Lauren whispers, cracking her knuckles.

Blaine is surprised to discover he actually feels appropriately chastised and threatened. Kurt is lucky to have caring friends, he guesses.

"I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent, and I have razor blades hidden in my hair," Santana hisses, waving her hands around her head, looking sufficiently crazy. "So watch it, Shorty!"

"Lord Tubbington will be really disappointed if you make our Dolphin cry," Brittany says sadly.

"We both know how tight the Asian community is. But if one of our own acts out, you'll have all of us on your neck," Mike says calmly.

Tina glares at him over her sunglasses next to her boyfriend.

"It doesn't matter that you're half white. Bring shame to us, then shame on you," Tina adds.

"If you hurt our Kurt, you'll have 20 raging cheerleaders on your neck, and you'll want to give birth without epidural just to get out of the pain we'll inflict on you," Quinn says sweetly, and Blaine shudders, automatically taking a step back.

"_As you can see, we've had our eye on you for some time now, Mr. Anderson_," Sam says in his best Mr. Smith-imitation, not removing his black sunglasses from his face.

"Yo, I like you and all," Artie says apologetically, "but Kurt is one of us. So if you break his heart I'll… I don't know, make a mean documentary about you and spread it on Youtube, or something."

He wheels himself back to his position in the circle of people surrounding Blaine. Mercedes is the last to step up to him.

"Now you listen up, and you listen good, white boy. You'd better make my boy Kurt happy, because he's a sweetheart and deserves to be treated right. If I ever hear you're not being the boyfriend he deserves, I'm gonna trash your car. I've busted a window before, and I'll do it again."

She steps back, and New Directions gather to form a semi circle in front of Blaine. They stand in front of him, arms crossed across their chests, and trying to look intimidating with their black outfits and sunglasses.

"Duly noted," Blaine says, looking at his feet instead of trying to meet their eyes through the sunglasses.

"And don't you forget it," Mercedes warns him.

"I won't," he promises, looking at her.

"Okay then… Welcome to the group of perfect misfits," she shouts happily, and before Blaine can react, he's in the bottom of a pile of hugging teenagers.

* * *

"Warbler Kurt, approach the Council Table, please."

Kurt is slightly confused by Wes' request, but steps up without hesitating. One does not object to the Council's antics.

"Kurt Hummel, it's been brought to our attention that you have initiated a relationship with Warbler Blaine," Thad says seriously. "Two Warblers united is always a happy occasion. But it is our duty, seeing Blaine has seniority over you as a Warbler, to give you this warning. If you ever hurt Blaine, you hurt the Warblers."

Behind Kurt, the Warblers are gathering in formation, and the Council members join their ranks. David counts them in, and a low, slow, menacing beat thunders through the room.

_Every breath you take_, Wes and David booms, prolonging the words.

_And every move you make_, Nick and David sings, stepping closer to Kurt.

_Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you_, the four boys sings, clipped and pointedly.

_Every single day, And every word you say_, Wes and Jeff warns him.

_Every game you play, every night you stay_, Nick and David growls.

The Warblers chant, sounding like a furious Gregorian choir.

_I'll be watching you  
__I'll be watching you  
__I'll be watching you  
__I'll be watching you!_

They end the song with military precision, all eyes locked on Kurt.

"Roger that," Kurt nods, biting his inner cheek.

Nick jumps up to him to hug Kurt.

"If Blaine ever hurts you, we'll kick his ass," he promises.

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Police – _Every Breath You Take_


	45. Parental Perspectives

**Greetings, the amazing crowd who's following this story! I've been missing being here, and I hope you haven't given up on me; I'm so grateful for all of you, and beam for each new notification about a new follower, favourite or review. Some of the reviews are from anons, so it's impossible to answer privately, but know that I appreciate them all very much - you make me so happy!**

**I'm so sorry about the late reply, but as I warned, my exam just stole every kind of mental capacity I had, and afterwards I was so exhausted I spent a week with my grandparents doing as little as possible. A rose to everyone who's supported and encouraged me through this exam - I'm happy to announce that I PASSED! I still have one more exam left, but I feel 100 kilos lighter after having completed the first. It was like Madame Tibideaux telling me NYADA would be glad to have me.**

**The notifications acted up for a couple of days; to those of you reading _I Cried For You_ and haven't seen - I updated it with a new chapter.**

**This chapter is dedicated to Nightingale63, who gave me a lot of inspiration and ideas for this chapter.**

**I am NOT up to date on season 4 of Glee, so please, please, please no spoilers! Otherwise, I'm happy to chat about the other three seasons, my stories, life, 42, and everything in between.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, and I'm gonna sue them for a lot of unnecessary heartache.**

* * *

After New Directions and Warblers thoroughly intimidated Blaine and Kurt respectively, they all hang out together at Dalton. Rachel is happy to spend time with her boyfriend, but spends even more time sighing sadly over how talented kids Kurt and Blaine could have together if only it was genetically and/or biologically possible.

Kurt manages to fend off the most invasive questions, promising instead to catch up with the girls over Skype as soon as possible. But Blaine and he can't avoid every single question about their new status. They stay close for the rest of the afternoon; nobody succeed in separating them to interrogate and compare notes.

First and foremost, their friends want to know how it all happened.

"That is really none of your business," Blaine smiles charmingly, and it's enough for the Warblers to stop snooping. Although Kurt knows he'll fill in the gaps for Nick – and consequently Jeff – later; after all, he observed some of the getting together from first row. And he assumes Wes and David will grill Blaine for details later.

The guys from New Directions, though, aren't as easily discouraged.

"When you left on Friday you were friends, but less than 48 hours later we are informed by Wes that Klaine is a go. What changed?" The chorus is unanimous.

Blaine and Kurt just look at each other, smiling secretly.

"I guess the time was finally right," Kurt shrugs, leaning closer to Blaine. "But enough about us. Are you prepared for Nationals?"

The question sets Rachel off on a fifteen minutes long rant about her solo candidates. Eventually, the teenagers split up in smaller groups of both Warblers and New Direction-members, talking about everything and nothing. Kurt and Blaine sit back in the couch, watching their friends. When the attention has stopped straying to them, they sit silently, drawing whimsical patterns with their fingers on the other's hands and wrists, and just enjoy the butterflies and the newness.

When the Lima crew has to go back home, Kurt walks them to their cars.

"Could you not say anything to Dad about this?" he pleads with Finn. He wants to break the news himself, and not have his brother blurt it out over dinner or something else heart threateningly.

"Why, is it a secret? Don't you think he'll be happy for you? He's cool with you being gay, and he likes Blaine."

"I honestly don't know how he'll react, but I want him to hear it from me first." Kurt doesn't know how to break the news to his dad; it's a thrillingly new situation to be in.

"I'll try not to say anything. But I'm really happy for you, bro, and this shouldn't be a secret. I guess he'll wonder why we went to Dalton, though."

"Don't bring Dalton up if he doesn't mention it. And if he wonders… Just say you needed help to prepare for Nationals."

"Okay, I could do that. That's hardly a lie, even."

Finn hugs him goodbye, and Kurt waves at his friends as they drive away.

Back in the dormitory building, he seeks out Blaine. Blaine kisses him in greeting, and Kurt has to suppress a giddy giggle. His heart skips a beat, though, and he sinks down in the bed, curling up next to Blaine who sits reading a book.

"I'm going to tell my dad about us," he announces.

"Okay," Blaine replies calmly, putting the book away. "How do you think that'll go?"

"Even though he's protective of me, I can't see why he should be upset. It would be better to tell him face to face, but I don't trust Finn's ability to keep his mouth shut, so I have to beat him to it."

"Maybe I should tell my dad too. He already knows I wanted to ask you out," Blaine muses.

"He does?" Kurt isn't able to hide his delighted surprise. Both because Blaine had planned something for them, and because he's come close enough to his dad to talk about him.

"He asked me about us more than a month ago," Blaine admits bashfully. "I've liked you for a long time…"

"I've liked you for a long time too," Kurt smiles at him, shuffling even closer.

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here," Blaine smiles sadly, holding Kurt's hands in his.

"Hey, no need to beat yourself over that anymore. Haven't we talked it through already? We do this in the pace we both need."

"You're amazing," Blaine gushes, and looks adoringly at Kurt.

Kurt would probably answer something conceited in any other situation, but he holds back a witty response. Instead, he leans in and brushes his lips against Blaine's as his reply.

* * *

Burt has just finished fixing the front suspensions on a Volvo, when his cell phone chimes in the distance. He wipes his oil stained hands, trying to remember where he placed the darn thing. Why Carole and Kurt insist he needs one, he'll never understand. What's so wrong with a regular phone? It won't be misplaced, but is always found by its regular place mounted to the wall or on a table. Maybe people can't reach him for the twenty minutes it takes him to drive from work to home, but the world will hardly go under just from that.

He sighs, and locates the cell phone in his lunch box after it's stopped ringing. He tries not to worry when he sees Kurt was calling. It's not like him to call that early, and Burt really hopes nothing has happened. Dalton should be a safe place for him, right? He hasn't really gotten over the terrible dread when he found out about the Karofsky-kid's bullying and death threat. Burt's not an idiot; he knows bullies often act out because of their own problems. But he can't gather much sympathy for whatever issues that boy is struggling with, when he chose to take it out on Burt's son.

He's barely finished the thought, before the phone chimes again, and he pushes the tiny button. Working with fine tools and figuring out what's wrong in a complicated engine is second nature to him. But understanding the microscopic phone is a whole other cake.

"Kiddo," he greets him, holding his breath in anticipation.

"Hey Dad," Kurt says, and he doesn't sound as if he's crying or anything horrible has happened. Burt lowers his shoulders. "I know you're still at the garage, but I wanted to talk with you before you go home. Is that okay?"

Burt walks into his office while Kurt talks, and sits down in his old, whiny chair. Is something going on in his home?

"I'm free to talk," he says instead.

"Have you by chance talked with Finn lately?" Kurt asks hesitantly.

Burt smiles and readjusts his cap. He might find out why Finn had looked so shifty when he came back home last night, and had run off to his room without the grilled cheese Burt offered to make.

"Has this got anything to do with why Finn suddenly had to go to Dalton yesterday?"

"Kind of?"

"Kind of?" Burt smiles to himself. He has a good feeling about this conversation. If something bad was up, Kurt would either have told him immediately or not told him at all. Burt still doesn't have a clue what this phone call is about, but he can give his son time. There has to be some advantages to being your own boss; personal phone calls during work hours being one of them.

"I have something I need to tell you, Dad."

Burt can easily imagine Kurt pacing his room, chewing on his bottom lip, and nervously adjusting the knickknacks on his shelves.

"I'm already sitting down, if that's needed," Burt says calmly, and his son snorts.

"It might," he says, and takes a deep breath. "Dad, I… Blaine, you remember Blaine, right?"

Burt grins widely, keeping silent to not let Kurt know anything. He hopes he's guessing right about the news this conversation will give. Although, he doesn't understand what Finn has got to do with it, though.

"Of course I remember Blaine. It's pretty difficult to forget or ignore someone who's been more or less attached to your hip for the last six months," he smirks.

"Okay. So yeah… Okay…"

"What's up, Kurt?" Burt may have all the patience in the world for his son, but this is getting ridiculous. He doesn't want Kurt to feel it's difficult telling his own old man anything, he wants him to be able to come to him whenever.

He can hear his son swallow heavily through the receiver, and can imagine him bracing himself for this. It saddens him that what he's pretty sure are good news are this difficult for his son to tell him. But he's also glad that Kurt values his opinions this much.

"Dad? Blaine and I… are dating. He's my boyfriend now."

Burt grins. Nailed it in one! If he'd been a decade or two younger, he might have done something not quite dignifying, like raising his fist or doing a small victory dance.

"I'm glad, son."

"You're glad."

Kurt doesn't sound as if he believes him.

"I'm happy for you. Blaine's a good guy, and I'm not blind, I know you've been mooning over him for months."

"Dad!" Kurt shrieks, sounding embarrassed, and this will be a lot of fun, if it's going to be this easy to get a rise out of him.

"Are you happy, then?"

"I am, Dad. I'm really, really happy. He's... He's everything, Dad," Kurt says breathlessly.

Burt smiles, sadly. He's really happy for his son, but as usual Kurt is all in on everything he does. Burt can hear how fast and hard he's falling for that kid, and he doesn't want to think about the potential this gives for brutal heartache. Kurt's been through enough in his short life, and it's about time he got to experience some uncomplicated happiness.

"Tell me about your date, then," Burt encourages, and distractedly listens to Kurt talk about somebody's grandmother, hands in appropriate places, Blaine doing gestures from last century, and… a playground?

It's obvious from Kurt's voice and words how happy he is, and Burt should worry. But isn't this what Burt has wanted for his son for a long time? After all the bullying and the hardship, isn't this the normal teenage life with crushes and dating he deserves? In a world with so much cruelty, especially for slightly different boys like Kurt and Blaine, he should consider it a good thing that they have found each other and create good moments together.

"And how does Finn fit into this picture?"

So Kurt tells him about how all the kids had threatened Blaine to treat Kurt right, and Burt grins smugly. He knew he more often than not liked those kids. Apparently, Kurt's new Glee club had given him the same courtesy, and Burt wonders what kind of wicked mind stood behind the execution of such a synchronized plan.

"Are you coming home for Friday night dinner?" Burt asks when Kurt takes a moment to catch his breath in his story telling. "You should invite Blaine over," he adds when Kurt confirms his plans.

"Oh."

Yeah, oh, Burt thinks. He may be happy for the boys. Doesn't mean he's not gonna have some fun with it, though.

* * *

"How did the conversation go?" Blaine asks as soon as Kurt steps into his room, picking him up for dinner.

"Good. Really good," Kurt smiles, hesitates for a second, before leaning in to kiss him.

"Good. I'm going to call my dad after dinner." He leans in to kiss him again, and Kurt smiles against his lips.

They separate to walk to the dining hall. Blaine takes his hand immediately, and Kurt laces their fingers together. They share a brilliant smile and climb down the stairs.

"Do you have any plans on Friday?"

"No. Why?" Blaine briefly entertains the though of Kurt asking him out on a date, and the butterflies that have been present in his stomach ever since their first kiss lazily flap their wings again.

"Dad invited you for Friday night dinner," Kurt says slowly, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Oh…"

* * *

They're in their shared bathroom, trading sweet kisses with minty fresh mouths. Kurt has wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist, and Blaine is slowly running his hands up and down Kurt's shoulders and biceps. It's borderline unbelievable they can do this. He's never quite understood how lips brushing against another pair of lips can be such a big deal, but it is. It's overwhelming in all the best ways, and he doesn't want to ever stop. Maybe it's because it's Kurt, but if so, he doesn't want to ever kiss anyone else. Nothing has ever felt as good as this before. Realistically, Blaine knows – or at least hopes very strongly – that they some day will move past kissing. But for now, he doesn't think he can survive anything more erotic than kissing and exploring the naked skin visible above their clothes with their finger tips.

Kurt breaks the kiss and leans back against the wall.

"Hi," he murmurs giddily with red swollen lips, and Blaine can't help but stare.

"Hi," he replies stupidly, running his index finger along Kurt's jaw line, finishing with a bop against his tiny chin cleft.

"We should go to bed."

"Uhuh," Blaine replies, studying the part of Kurt's collar bone visible over his pyjamas top.

Kurt laughs softly, and leans in to kiss his cheek.

"Good night, Blaine," he teases and unwraps from him. "See you tomorrow," he promises, making Blaine smile. There's always a new day with his newly coined boyfriend.

Tomorrow he'll also have to call his dad. He kind of forgot some time between dinner, homework and kissing.

* * *

"Son, hi, hold on a moment, will you."

Blaine listens to his dad shuffling around, the sound of paper rustling and a TV-program of sorts in the background. Probably the news, if he knows his dad correctly. He rarely watches anything else on the TV.

The background noises are muted when his dad addresses him again.

"How are you, Blaine?" he greets cordially.

"I'm good, dad. I'm great, actually." Blaine can't help but smile. He doesn't think his dad will be upset. After all, he encouraged him to ask Kurt out.

"What's happened," his dad asks kindly, not being one to beat around the bush.

"I kissed him," he blurts out, realizing he sounds like he's high on something. Which he is. He's high on… Kurt.

"So Kurt and you are dating now, then?"

"We are. I… I have a boyfriend now, dad," Blaine loves saying those words, even though he sounds dazed and not completely sober.

The older Anderson is silent for a moment.

"I _am_ happy for you. But you are being safe, right?"

"Dad," Blaine gulps. "I've just kissed him!"

"What do you mean?"

"We're not… I'm not ready to… I do know about co…"

"That's not what I was talking about," his dad interrupts him. "Jesus, I wasn't thinking about _that_. I don't want to think about… _that._"

"Oh," Blaine deflates blushingly. He couldn't imagine anything else his dad would warn him against and remind him to be careful about after getting news like these. "What was you talking about, then?" he asks, sufficiently humiliated on his own.

"I just want you to be careful and not risk getting hurt. You're safe at Dalton, but…"

_Oh!_

Blaine absentmindedly runs a hand over the old injuries on his hip.

"We are being careful," Blaine murmurs. "You know it was difficult for me to ask him out, and everything is still so new and fragile. We certainly don't have any need to provoke anyone. I'm… I'm still scared, Dad," Blaine whispers, and he can't remember the last time he felt so bared in front of his own father.

"Oh Blaine," Devon sighs. "I want you to be carefree and happy, and still be safe and careful at the same time. Is that too much to ask?"

"I don't know, Dad. I really don't know."

* * *

The Council is still insisting on Casual Friday, hoping it'll bring good suggestions for the PaFoD set list. For once, Kurt just wants rehearsal to be done with quickly, so Blaine and he can drive home to Lima. He's both excited and anxious for Friday Night Dinner. He wonders how his dad will treat them now that they are a couple, but he's also looking forward to spend the weekend with both Blaine and his Lima friends. He loves his Dalton friends too, but he hasn't spent proper time with his oldest friends for a long time. They all talked on Monday, and they had welcomed Blaine into their eclectic group.

The Warblers have a lot of fun, performing silly songs and songs silly. They improvise and let loose. And despite of the genial atmosphere, they still manage to fill the hour. At McKinley, there would always be some kind of drama that'd inspire song selections.

When Blaine takes the floor, Kurt is surprised. Blaine hasn't said anything about preparing a song for today, and usually they'd practice potential performances together. While this week has been spent kissing and cuddling as much as possible in between classes, homework, and their other usual activities. Fencing and school presidency take of Blaine's time, and he's serious about his duties, but he never makes Kurt feel less than important and prioritized.

"Hello everybody," Blaine greets them while wrapping the guitar strap properly over his shoulder. "As some of you may know, something wonderful happened last weekend," he smiles bashfully and looks with a tilted head at Kurt. The Warblers laugh and whistle at them. "And I'd like to sing this little song to my _boyfriend_," he gushes.

He strums the guitar, plonking the strings in a slow and laidback rhythm, sliding his fingers over the strings through the chords. He looks at Kurt, who's sitting expectantly in one of the big couches, wondering what his boyfriend is up to. He's quickly realizing he really, really likes having a boyfriend.

"_Found myself today singing out loud your name, You said I'm crazy, If I am I'm crazy for you._"

The grin is threatening to split Kurt's face in two, and he's not even embarrassed by his giddy reactions or the few boys teasingly waving lit lighters in the air. Nick winks at him, wiggling his eyebrows.

"_And every time I'm meant to be acting sensible, You drift into my head, And turn me into a crumbling fool._"

Kurt is enjoying this to the fullest. Even with all the bared emotions surrounding most performances with New Direction, nobody's ever sung a song to him like this. And he most definitely has never been the receiver of a love song or a romantic gesture. He likes to suppress the memories of the humiliating efforts he made of serenading Finn… And just like that, Kurt realizes that he finally has someone he can sing to. He's had to listen to numerous declarations, and even some hate-songs after nasty break ups, thinking he'll never have the same possibility as long as he lives in Ohio. Yet, here he is.

"_Pacing floors and opening doors, Hoping you'll walk through And save me boy, Because I'm too crazy for you. Crazy for you!_"

Blaine leans the guitar on its stand while the Warblers applaud, and he walks straight for Kurt, looking a cute mix of expectant and shyly proud of himself. Kurt stands up, and wraps him up in a modest hug.

"Thank you," he murmurs into Blaine's ear. "You're too sweet!"

They separate and sit down next to each other on the couch, hands clasped between their thighs, but otherwise they are decent.

"Klisses, we want klisses!" Jeff chants from his seat.

"Klisses?" David asks confused.

"Klaine kissing," Jeff explains with his best duh-tone of voice.

"Klaine?" David asks, still confused.

"Kurt and Blaine, obviously," Jeff sighs, not impressed by his friend's intelligence or deduction skills.

"If that is so, we want klisses," Wes agrees.

Blaine and Kurt look at each other, look at the Warblers who are rooting for them, and then look at each other again. Kurt shrugs, and Blaine leans in to peck his lips. Half of the boys catcalls, and the other half boos, calling them out on the lame kiss. The couple just look at each other and smiles pleased. They're not there to entertain their friends.

When rehearsal is done, they walk hand in hand to Kurt's car to head for Lima. Before they leave, Kurt makes sure to thank Blaine thoroughly for the song, pressing him against the Navigator in a secluded corner of the parking lot, and kissing him breathless.

* * *

Even though he's been at the Hudmel house before, Blaine can't help but feel nervous. It's a big difference from being Kurt's friend to being Kurt's _boyfriend_. He knows how protective Burt is of his son. As Kurt hasn't had any boyfriends before, he doesn't know how his dad reacts in such situations, and Blaine realized he'll be Burt's test ride.

The drive to Lima was faster than he'd like, but time has the habit of rushing whenever he spends it with Kurt. They've barely begun singing on a song from the radio, before Kurt parks the car in the driveway.

Kurt's hardly opened the door, before he's engulfed in a tight embrace from his dad. Blaine watches them from the door opening, a tiny bit jealous of their warm relationship. He's getting closer to his own dad, but they are still far from the bone crushing hugs, the intimate knowledge about what the other's body language says, and the "you can talk to me about anything"-conversations.

"Blaine," Kurt's dad greets him, with a stoic facial expression.

"Good evening, Mr. Hummel, thank you for inviting me to dinner."

"So…" the man says, sizing Blaine up and down.

Blaine shrinks under his stern eyes, trying not to whimper from the increasingly firmer handshake.

"Burt," Carole says warningly, and Burt lets go of him with a grin. "Welcome, honey, I hope you like pot roast," she says while hugging him.

"You better not have added any salt!" he can hear Kurt shout from the kitchen.

"I better go and see what Gordon Ramsay wants. Sometimes I think he forgets I have managed to keep his old man alive without his help for several months already," she giggles, and hurries back to the kitchen.

Blaine slips off his shoes and the Dalton blazer. They had foregone changing out of uniform in favour of getting quicker to Lima. The warm late April afternoon had also deemed any kind of jacket unnecessary.

He looks up at Burt, too polite to make himself as home, and awaiting further instructions.

"So you're dating my son now," he says, lowering his voice to avoid drawing any attention from the kitchen.

"I am, sir."

"So no more funny business with Rachel, then?"

Blaine swallows. Of course Mr. Hummel would remember that embarrassing night and the morning after.

"No, sir, that was a lapse of judgment. I…" He doesn't finish the sentence; he doesn't know if Kurt's dad is the right person to listen to Blaine's self esteem issues, and how he for a night had tried to be something safer, easier.

"Kurt deserves to experience what it's like to be a normal teenager. I was so happy when he told me about you. I think it's about time someone put that big smile on his face. You just make sure the smile doesn't disappear too often and for too long, okay?"

"I promise, sir. I really want him to be happy."

"That's good. Just remember that your happiness is just as important, Blaine. I see the way you look at my son. Never ever forget that he looks at you the same way, okay?"

"I won't, sir. Thank you, sir," Blaine nods overwhelmed, not able to meet the man's eyes.

"Come on, dinner is on the table. Oh, and one more thing, Blaine?"

"Yes, sir?" Blaine lifts his head to look at his boyfriend's father, who's half turned away to head for the dining room.

"Enough with the sir-stuff, got it? It's Burt. You make me think of you as a British butler of some sorts with the sir-nonsense. Welcome to the family."

* * *

Dinner is as nice as Kurt could have hoped for it to be, with effortless talking and laughing. He _knows_ his dad had cornered Blaine in the hallway, but he doesn't know what they talked about. From his boyfriend's giddiness and smile, he assumes he was neither threatened too harshly nor castrated manually. Honestly, Kurt hadn't known what to expect when he brought home a boyfriend for the first time. His family already knew Blaine, and had never expressed anything but care and acceptance for him, despite of his hangover presence in Kurt's bed. So he'd hoped it would only be a matter of smaller adjustments from the change of relationship status between them. And as far as he can see, the transition has been seamless, and the introduction of his _boyfriend_ painless.

After dinner, they gather in front of the TV in the living room. He'd without fight given Finn the veto rights for the movie selection, knowing Quinn's presence would steer Finn away from the most testosterone filled DVDs. Kurt was still surprised he picked _PS I Love You_.

His dad and Carole are sitting in the recliners. Carole is slowly nursing a glass of white wine, while Burt is enjoying a cold beer. It's their Friday night indulgences. Quinn and Finn are cuddled up in the loveseat. Blaine and he have commandeered the couch, and Kurt is sitting with his legs curled up next to him. He had planned to lean in and cuddle with Blaine, but Blaine had shifted slightly away from him, sitting stiffly next to him. Kurt shouldn't feel rejected, especially because he can understand why Blaine is hesitant and seemingly distant. Kurt doesn't know if he'd cuddle with Blaine on the couch in front of Mr. Anderson either. But Kurt also _knows_ that his own dad wouldn't mind at all. He'd simply stated on the phone that he'd set the same rules and expectations for him as they did for Finn and his girl friend(s). So it's with longing Kurt glances between the TV-screen and Quinn cuddled up with Finn.

* * *

Blaine may be oblivious to a lot, but he knows he confused and disappointed Kurt when he didn't welcome his invitation for cuddling. He'd love to be physically close to Kurt while watching the movie; have him curled up in his arm, or with his head resting on his shoulder. But he also wants to show Mr. Hummel, Burt, that he respects both him and his son, that he won't be inappropriate, and that he can trust his son with him.

That's why he's sitting primly, with some distance to Kurt, making sure not a single inch of his body is touching Kurt's, toes to shoulders.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see Kurt subtly wiping away some tears at Holly's mournful performance of _The Man That Got Away_. He shifts uncomfortably, wanting to comfort his boyfriend, but not daring to. He catches movement from the left, and looks over to find Burt watching him. The man meets his eyes, looks pointedly at his step son with his girlfriend curled up in his arms, and back to Blaine. He smiles and nods at him, as if Blaine needs the encouragement and permission. Which he does, really. He looks over at Kurt, and back to Burt again. The man nods yet again, takes a big sip of his beer, and looks determinedly on the TV-screen.

With lowered shoulders, he shifts towards Kurt, and rubs a soothing hand along his neck. Kurt looks at him with teary eyes and smiles as he leans in to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine snakes an arm around his waist, boldly letting it rest on Kurt's hip. Kurt leans in even further, putting more weight on Blaine's body, and lands an arm across Blaine stomach. Blaine takes his hand with his other hand, and they lace their fingers together. They sit like that for the rest of the movie. By the time the credits roll across the screen, Kurt is fast asleep, head drooped down to his chest. Blaine kisses his forehead. He looks up to find Burt watching them with a surprisingly fond expression. He can feel his cheeks heat up, but Burt simply pats his shoulder as he leaves the room.

"Don't let it get too late before you send him to bed," Carole whispers as she returns with bed linens and blankets for him to sleep on the couch.

Quinn bids her silent goodbyes as she leaves, and Finn disappears to his room with a wave.

* * *

Blaine can only describe the rest of the weekend with the Hudmel's as _easy, but difficult_. As Kurt pointed out before they came to Lima, his family already knew and liked Blaine, so that shouldn't be a problem. He's been there enough to feel familiar with the house and people, and both Carole and Burt had insisted he act as home.

"Kiddo, if you're thirsty, you help yourself to anything you want. Except my beer. If nature calls; just go. You don't have to excuse yourself for everything. Lower your shoulders, kid, we expect to see a lot more of you, so you better get used to this."

That didn't mean Burt and Carole weren't good hosts and people to spend time with. They just decided to treat Blaine more as a member of a family than a guest. And to do so, they did their best to include him and rope him in on their daily activities. Not that it was a brainer for them – Blaine gladly offered to set the table and help with the dishes, even though he didn't know his way around the kitchen. But he didn't mind the thought of this being the first of many weekends spent with Kurt in Lima, so he did his best to notice and memorize the little quirks and details in their daily routines. He wanted in on their inside family patterns.

Kurt was always close by his side, steering him with a gentle hand and a fond smile to the correct cupboard for dinner plates in the kitchen and drawer in the dining room for napkins and candles. Because he didn't know where anything went, Finn did the dishes, Blaine dried and Kurt placed everything in their right place while showing Blaine where he could find sharp knives, coffee mugs or trivets.

Conversation while they ate flew easily, as usual. Kurt and Finn both had stories to exchange about friends and school, Burt wanted to know more about his son's life in Westerville, Carole was the perfect glue that managed to include everybody, or struck up conversation with those left out. With his upbringing and manners, Blaine was a master at polite small talk. Surprisingly, he found it easy to open up to these people, and share things about his life he didn't normally tell. Carole seemed sincere in her interest in his passion about student politics. Burt and Finn were enraptured by his fencing, going so far as to wonder if there were any chances of watching him some time.

Blaine could feel himself relax more and more, even though he was still far from being as laidback as Burt had instructed him to be. But he could feel himself slipping away from the role he always played as good guest, and act more like himself. He knew Burt could see it too, when he'd sometimes stumble and be a tad too polite and charming to be natural for those who knew him. Kurt of course knew, and would roll his eyes at him, shake his head fondly, smile crookedly, or now and then even pinch him. He should have known Burt was good at reading people too, and could see right through him.

But he was trying. He didn't feel comfortable just sauntering off to the kitchen and help himself to whatever, but he did manage to ask if anyone wanted coffee and offer to put on the coffee maker. When it was done, he found out how every single member of the family took their coffee, and prepared their mugs. He did, however, manage to stop calling Kurt's dad sir, even though he slipped in a couple of Mr. Hummel's. He managed to sit back relaxed and eventually shout in excitement with Burt and Finn as they watched a Buckeyes game on Sunday. But it was Kurt who had to tell him it was okay if he wanted to take a shower before going to Rachel's Train Wreck Extravaganza 2.0.

It turned out to be less of a wreck and more of a pleasant ride. The members of New Directions had made a deal with Mr. Schuester to not touch a drop of alcohol until they could celebrate their win at Nationals, and they stuck to it. Blaine wouldn't have had any anyway – he had a sort-of-father-in-law to impress, or at least not upset, and being sober while staying in his house was without doubt a strategic move, to say the least. But luckily, none of the Gleeks were particularly shy, and they fought over the microphone more than once.

If Blaine had been wasted, he would probably have ravished Kurt right there among his (their) friends after a certain performance that reminded Blaine how utterly _sexy_ his boyfriend is.

_Birds flying high, You know how I feel. Sun in the sky, You know how I feel. Breeze driftin' on by, You know how I feel. It's a new dawn, It's a new day, It's a new life, For me. And I'm feeling good. I'm feeling good._

Kurt was singing it sensually, teasingly, growling out _it's a new day_ and soaring to the heights of his range with _feeling good_. He was dancing and moving in ways that made Blaine think he should feel angry with New Directions for not appreciating Kurt's talent more for the two and a half years before Blaine met him, but also feel grateful nobody snatched him before Blaine could.

And still he manages to look all innocent and bashful, when he skips over to Blaine, chewing on his bottom lip with his canine.

"That was…" Blaine gushes, finding himself speechless.

"I know it may seem cheesy, but in just one week you've changed my life, and I feel really good about it," Kurt blushes, almost whispering it in Blaine's ear to avoid the others easedropping, who are still applauding and whistling to his performance.

If it was cheesy, Blaine was cheesy too.

"You've changed me too, you know," he whispers back, and takes Kurt's hand in his. Nonchalantly, he guides Kurt up the stairs from Rachel's basement and out the glass door to the garden. They stroll to the far end, and there Blaine pushes Kurt against the tool shed, finally crashing their lips together. He's kissing him with his entire body, and when Kurt separates his lips, Blaine's tongue dives in. Licking, tasting, dancing, exploring. But when Kurt whimpers, Blaine automatically jumps back apologetically.

"Too much?" he asks worriedly. He did not want to be _that_ kind of boyfriend, even though Kurt made him simply wild tonight!

"Idiot," Kurt mutters, grabs Blaine by his sweater vest, reverses their positions and slams their lips together again.

Blaine finds himself plastered against the tool shed, and whimpers when a nail pokes him between his shoulders. He shifts to get away from the offending piece of steel, and can feel Kurt smirk against his lips. That little… He grabs Kurt firmer, and switches their positions again, making sure to not press Kurt against the nail sticking out of the wall. He kisses Kurt's lips, the corner of his mouth, down along his jaw line, boldly licking down his throat from his ear to the crook where neck meets shoulder, and wow, kissing is so much more than lips on lips! Thinking about Kurt's performance, feeling the hard and pliant body in his arms, it makes him reckless. It must do something to Kurt too, because he doesn't object when Blaine starts sucking above his collar bone. It's entirely not Blaine's fault, when Kurt chose today to wear a boat necked sweater, and nothing under. All Blaine has to do, is gently move the fabric to the side with his pinky, and there it is. Skin, glorious skin!

"We know what you're doing out here, so you might as well come back in and let us watch, _mis amigos calientes_. We haven't seen Kurt in quite a while. You see him every day, Blaine. You gotta learn to share _los dulces_," Santana drawls from behind them.

They jump apart, blushingly. With trembling fingers, Blaine adjusts Kurt's scarf to hide how he'd just _marked_ him, and Kurt fixes Blaine's hair where his fingers messed it up.

Like two tomatoes, they walk back in, hand in hand two steps behind Santana. Mercedes and Tina grin smugly at them, Puck nods approvingly, and Rachel ropes Blaine in for a duet. He may be singing with Rachel, but it's Kurt he sings to.

* * *

**Lyrics from:**

Adele – _Crazy For You  
_Adam Lambert – _Feeling Good_


	46. En Garde

**Thank you so much for all your kind reviews and feedback!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything fun.**

* * *

Despite of the intense make out session by the tool shed in Rachel's dads' garden, things calm down between Kurt and Blaine after that. Or maybe that's exactly why they slow their pace down and retreat a couple of steps. After tiptoeing around each other for so long, longing for a relationship, building up physical tension between them, and advancing teasingly slow, the heated kissing functioned as a much needed outlet, allowing the boys to let out some steam, and maybe they needed it to really believe and realize they were finally a couple.

They are both very happy with exploring each other in a languid manner, kissing chastely and lazily, lips brushing against lips. Lips exploring skin, familiarizing themselves with the scent, taste and feel of the other. Hesitant fingers growing bolder, introducing themselves properly – not yet granted visas south of Equator, thank you very much. Running along the other's hands and arms, slipping under sleeves to brush and tickle wrists and as far as possible up between fabric and skin. Memorizing every angle, every dip, every curve and shape of their faces. Playing with the hair on the nape of the neck. Resting a hand over a thundering heart as their lips caress and wordlessly declare their feelings for the other. Relaxing in each other's arms. Spooning until they almost fall asleep, and reluctantly have to pull apart to spend the night in their own beds.

Because even though falling asleep and waking up together are rapidly becoming favourites of theirs, it still feels too early in the relationship to move in together during nights like that. There's also a curfew in school to respect, and as school president, Blaine is reluctant to break the rules too often and too obviously.

But as long as nobody sees them roaming the hallways late at night, Blaine can usually be persuaded to just fifteen more minutes of cuddles before one of them have to slip through the connecting bathroom to their own room.

One would think that living next door to each other, spending 24 hours a day at the same school, sharing some classes and extracurricular activities, and having a lot of the same friends, would provide for a lot of time together. But the truth is, both boys have busy schedules, and it feels as if they never have enough _quality_ time together. They both make a priority of spending time alone; it just isn't enough for their hunger. The time they do have is highly cherished, though. They don't have to do any extravagant and spectacular things; spooning while watching a movie, eagerly discussing an upcoming essay, drowsily trading kisses, jogging in the park, impromptu dance parties to one of their iPods, discussing the merits of a good bowtie, sitting close and reading Vogue. They made it a priority to create moments and bubbles on their own to just cherish the relationship and each other.

They don't want to abandon their friends either, even though they have politely declined a couple of invitations to hang out, when the need to be alone together has roared its priority. They have an unspoken mutual understanding of lying low when together with them. They don't want to be _that_ couple who can't spend an hour without playing tonsil hockey in front of their friends. They see their relationship and expressions of how they feel for each other as something private anyway.

It's impossible to avoid any kind of changes between them after the upgrading of relationship status, though. They're probably not aware of it, but their friends see it. They notice how Kurt seems less tense when he's with Blaine than when the boy is somewhere else. Blaine is somewhat more giddy and playful around Kurt, as if he's stopped holding back and has released himself. They notice how Kurt's eyes soften whenever he looks at Blaine. Blaine's eyes they simply call heart eyes. They've been close friends, best friends, for a long time, but still they navigate more intimately in the other's space now, even without any touches. But there are touches too. They may be able to prevent themselves from kissing, but they can't keep their hands entirely off of the other, no matter how innocent. A gentle swoosh to remove invisible dust from a shoulder, a pat on the knee, knuckles brushing against knuckles, adjusting a lapel mostly because it's such a thrilling reminder of their first encounter, bodies angled towards each other in the couch, a whispered comment in an ear eliciting a shiver down the spine, a hand resting on a lower back to guide safely through a crowd, a shoulder bumping against another accompanied with an inside smile, a teasing hip bumping against the other's hip. So much and so little has changed.

Another big change is the swimming lessons. When Kurt had developed enough confidence and technique in the Anderson swim line, they moved the swimming lessons to the big pool at Dalton after classes. It was also more convenient, being more accessible. But now that Blaine is Kurt's boyfriend, it feels threateningly vulnerable to spend time alone only in swim shorts. It's a step in their relationship Kurt doesn't feel ready for. And because Blaine's the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, he understood why it's a difference for Kurt, or at least Kurt suspects he pretends to understand.

They solve it easily enough. Whenever Blaine is busy with fencing or student politics, Kurt goes to the pool with David. It turns out David is a certified lifeguard after a particularly dull summer a few years ago, and is patient enough to deal with Kurt's impatience when he doesn't manage to master the swimming strokes fast enough.

* * *

"Man, one of the professors was being a total ass," a voice is telling agitatedly through Blaine's speakers when Kurt comes in.

Blaine is looking at the tiny window on his screen, but he smiles at Kurt and reaches out a hand to briefly touch Kurt's as he passes behind him. Kurt is madly in love with how Blaine always diverts part of his attention in his direction, no matter what he does – and he manages to do it without seeming rude to anyone. It's happened several times. No matter what Blaine is doing; when Kurt arrives, Blaine's Kurt-radar picks up on it, and he seeks him out with eyes, hands and heart.

"How so, Toby?" Blaine asks sincerely,

Kurt smiles at the mention of the boy's name. He can't believe how much have happened in such short amount of time. It's less than two weeks since he was introduced to Toby, and he can still feel a lingering sensation of the overwhelming attack of jealousy he'd felt. But now he can only feel sadness for what Toby and Blaine experienced at the Sadie Hawkins dance, enormous relief for both boys surviving it, and fondness that the boys still seem to be amicable friends.

"We told the administration and the lecturers about _Day of Silence_ in advance. But one of the professors insisted on asking Logan and me all kinds of questions throughout his lessons. We kept shrugging and looking like brats refusing to speak, and you could see he was getting really pissed off. In the break, Amanda went up to him and explained why we weren't talking. And he just…"

The groan is audible all the way to Kurt, and he looks worriedly at Blaine. Blaine looks sympathetically at his screen, but reaches out a hand for Kurt.

"The imbecile told Amanda he didn't have time for idealistic hippies, and that naïve students of his always learned to grow up quickly enough."

"He didn't…" Blaine sighs, looking sad.

"Then Amanda reminded him how some girls in our class got to spend ten minutes of his lecture to inform us about March 8th events earlier this semester."

Something in Toby's voice reveals that wasn't a strategically wise idea. Blaine nods to egg him on.

"He told Amanda something along the lines of that day being an important international political movement with more than hundred year long traditions. What people want to do in their bedrooms or hidden in public restrooms, however, was not on his agenda."

"What happened?" Blaine unplugs his laptop from the charger, and moves over to his bed to sit down close to his boyfriend.

"Hey Kurt," Toby greets absentmindedly. Kurt waves back, smiling timidly. "Logan and I decided to leave the class; it was probably our best option if we didn't want to break our silence. Amanda joined us, after making sure to say loudly why in hope of having as many as possible hearing it. Then she kept silent for the rest of the day with us."

Kurt wraps an arm around Blaine's waist, who's sitting slumped against the wall. He takes his hand with the other, lacing their fingers together. The camera is angled to capture them from the chest and up.

"Then last week we handed in our obligatory essays. We got them back today, and the three of us had failed."

"What?" Kurt gasps.

"We're taking it to the faculty administration to get a second evaluation. But everybody is so busy this close to finales, so we don't know if we'll be able to get through with it before it's too late. The professor is making us write new essays if we want to take the exam, and I really don't have time for it with preparations for all the other exams and papers, and… God, it's such a mess."

"I'm so sorry," Blaine murmurs.

Kurt is left speechless. He's used to teachers being ignorant, but not explicitly discriminating. Sue Sylvester may be evil, but she's never unfair. Or, she at least has her good qualities, and would never sabotage a student's education. Only their Glee club.

"Now tell me about your day. Please tell me you didn't experience any drama at Dalton."

"We didn't," Blaine assures him. "But we spent half the day at Kurt's old school," he adds, nodding at the boy next to him. He goes on to tell Toby about their day, all the while running his thumb along Kurt's. Kurt has hooked his index finger through one of Blaine's belt loops, holding him close. Blaine ends his recounting of the day with their evening at the Hudmel's.

"I'm proud of you, Blainers," Toby smiles, and Kurt snorts at the nickname. "So what else is new?" he asks, looking expectantly at them.

"Well," Blaine smiles bashfully, glancing over at Kurt. "Kurt and I are dating," he beams giddily, and Kurt can't help but laugh thrillingly.

"'Just friends' my ass," Toby teases. "So for how long has this been going on?"

"Umm, since _Day of Silence_?"

"Only you, Blaine. Only you would be able to turn that day into a romantic occasion. And how do you even ask someone out when you can't open your mouth?"

"You kiss them," Blaine shrugs, trying to play it off cool, but the tips of his ears are red.

"Are you that ballsy, Blainers? Has he got balls, Kurt? Does he have these round, tight balls? Or maybe big, hairy balls hanging low?"

"Oh my God," Blaine groans into his hand. "This conversation is officially over."

Kurt laughs, and leans his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"That's really none of your business," he quips.

"Word," Blaine adds, earning a rich laugh from both Kurt and Toby.

* * *

Blaine has already left for Columbus, when Kurt gets up. It shouldn't be possible, but he already misses him. Knowing that he'll have to eat breakfast without him, knowing that their daily coffee enjoyed in silence before their first class won't happen, knowing that there's no chance of randomly bumping into him in the hallways, that is enough to feel a bit empty and lonely.

Well, it's the International Worker's Day, so nobody's going to class today anyway. All the more reason for missing him, Kurt thinks, as they undoubtly would have spent hours together today, no matter if it was to do homework, hang out with friends, or make a date out of it. But today is – of all things – sport's day.

Blaine and his trainer had to show up early for the State Championship in fencing, but he would text Kurt as soon as he knew his schedule for his… duels? Matches? Fights? Yeah, Kurt wasn't exactly fluent in the fencing lingo yet, but he would be the most supportive boyfriend there is.

Kurt flips out of bed, stumbling over to his wardrobe. He has to find a killer outfit that screams Fan #1 sophistically, won't clash too badly with Blaine's fencing clothing, is comfortable sitting in for several hours, but still will make Blaine really notice him after seeing him too often in uniform lately.

While discarding shirt after shirt, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Twice. The first message is a generic probably-mass-text with Blaine's schedule. The second is hopefully not a mass text.

_Good morning, boyfriend! I can't wait to see you later. You being here means everything to me. Your Blaine_

Yeah. Blaine is the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends.

* * *

The arena is just a thirty minutes drive away, but they decide to be eco friendly, and all go in the same car. Kurt's Navigator is more spacious, so David calls shot guns, and Wes sits between Nick and Jeff to chaperone them and make the car ride more pleasant for himself.

They settle down on the stands on the left side of the gymnasium, who's been transformed to a _salle_ for the day. Kurt had texted Blaine to let him know they had arrived, and Blaine had replied he would unfortunately not be able to meet up with them before his first bout, but he really appreciated them being there for him, and then added some XO's and Less than three's that made Kurt's stomach do a lot of funny things.

Before they left Dalton, they prepared pompoms and a big banner with Blaine's name from one of Nick's bed sheets and some paint Jeff had foresight enough to sneak out of art's class earlier that week. Jeff suggested they paint the letters in Blaine's name on their bare torsos, and do the wave every time he did something cool. It wasn't because they were five people and Blaine consists of six letters that the idea was shut down immediately.

Kurt has tried, he's really tried, to understand the sport, but it's too much intricate technique and really not a sport you can understand in theory without watching. But watching bouts (he knew that word, thanks to Blaine using it in one of his texts) without having anyone explain what goes on, isn't of much value either. So while waiting for Blaine, he skims the Wikipedia site of fencing glossary on his phone, hoping to increase his non-existing knowledge about this sport. To his delight, a lot of the glossary origin from French.

When the commentator announces Blaine's name, the five of them go wild, chanting his name, shaking their pompoms (and Santana would so make that sound dirty), and waving with the sheet. There are two bouts going on simultaneously, on their designated _strips_. Blaine is fencing against someone tall on the strip closest to the stands where the boys are sitting, and gives them a perfect view.

Kurt understands nil of what goes on, but he enjoys it anyway. There's a delightfully logical continuity that the boy who loves to sing while jumping on furniture, is competing in a sport where he needs to be quick and light on his feet, making strategic jumps. He hasn't decided if the clothing is hideous or not, but he does enjoy watching how the breeches cling to Blaine's thighs when he makes a particularly deep advance, and if only he would turn around slightly, Kurt would have a perfect opportunity to check out his boyfriend's behind. Kurt hasn't allowed himself to ogle his best friend Blaine, at least not frequently, but now he thinks he's both entitled to and interested in checking out his boyfriend. Doing it from a distance is also safer, as he won't risk the embarrassment of being caught by his boyfriend doing said things.

"See anything you like?" Jeff whispers laughingly in his ear, and Kurt startles and groans. He had kind of forgotten about them. Maybe it's for the better, if anyone else on the stands should discover what he's doing. So Kurt schools his face to something less love struck (lustful?), but readily joins his crazy friends whenever they cheer for Blaine.

Blaine moves on from the preliminary rounds, and soon after he gets to fight for advancement from quarter finals.

Blaine is the best fencer in the entire world.

Or at least that's what Kurt thinks, mighty impressed by the agility, flexibility, alertness and reflexes in his boyfriend. He realized fencing is actually a much more physically demanding sport than he'd imagined – it's so much more than just poking with an épée at the opponent.

Blaine wins again, but Kurt thinks he looks tired when he removes his mask, before he smiles politely and shakes hands with his opponent. And isn't there a subtle limping to the same leg where he has that old damage? Blaine waves at them when he passes them, probably headed for a wardrobe to relax before semi finales.

Kurt looks over at the others to see if they have noticed anything or seem worried, but they are laughing and goofing around. Maybe it was just a trick of the light. He tries not to think about it, and joins the boys in their craziness.

* * *

"Mind if I sit here?" a deep voice asks, and Kurt looks up to find Mr. Anderson.

"Of course not," Kurt replies, scooting closer to Jeff to give Blaine's father room to sit down.

"I really shouldn't be surprised so see that Blaine has a fan club," Mr. Anderson chuckles.

"We love him," Kurt says easily, before realizing that wasn't exactly how he meant to phrase it.

"It's good to know he has good friends. And more," Devon says lowly, looking pointedly at Kurt.

"I'll treat him right," Kurt whispers to avoid drawing attention to their conversation.

"I'm glad. It never occurred to me to worry about that, though." Devon lifts his hand as if he wants to touch Kurt in some way, but lets it land in his lap again.

They are silent for a while, until Blaine is called back to the floor.

Even Kurt can see this bout is difficult for Blaine. He was more convincing and dominating in the previous duels. He seems more defensive, and Kurt is more and more sure there's a slight limp to his steps.

Eventually, the referee announces Blaine's opponent as the winner. The next semi finale will be held in five minutes, and after that Blaine will be competing for the bronze medallion.

"Come with me," Devon orders Kurt, standing up from their seats. The other boys look confused at Kurt, who simply shrugs and follows his boyfriend's father.

Devon leads them to the entrance where Blaine has disappeared between each bout. A man is guarding the door, and Devon shows him a backstage pass.

"I'm Blaine Anderson's father, and this one's with me" he says, nodding at Kurt. The door keeper lets them through.

"I spent the morning with Blaine," he offers as explanation as he confidently and without hesitance walks them down a hallway, and stops in front of a generic locker room. He knocks twice, and the man Kurt knows as Blaine's trainer opens the door.

Devon and the trainer talk for a minute, and through the half open door Kurt can see Blaine sitting on a bench with his head resting in his open palms. He hasn't even acknowledged the knock on the door. He must be drained. He looks so small.

Kurt ignores the grown-ups, and pushes past them to get to his boyfriend.

"Hey," he murmurs, walking slowly over to Blaine, trying to ascend his state of mind.

"Kurt!" Blaine looks up and exhales, sounding so tired, and Kurt speeds up with long strides to get to him faster. He drops to his knees between Blaine's legs, placing his hands on Blaine's biceps. Without hesitating, Blaine leans in to kiss him. Kurt moves his hands up to cup his face, kissing him eagerly, albeit quickly, before wrapping his arms around his shoulders to hold him close.

"Tell me what you need," he whispers against Blaine's sweaty hair.

In the background, Devon observes the two of them.

"Why don't you show me where we can find some decent coffee, and we'll let this one give Blaine a pep-talk," Devon suggests, and something in his voice reveals it's not so much of a question as an order.

Kurt smiles as gratefully as he can to Devon, before the two men disappear.

"Half a gallon of water, some pain killers, and you," Blaine sighs. "And not necessarily in that order," he chuckles.

"You're cute and all, but now is not the time for romance. We need to get you ready for battle."

"It's not war, Kurt."

"Oh, I know," Kurt sasses, standing up on his feet. "It's more important than that." He rummages through Blaine's bag, and throws him a bottle of water. "Have you got anything?"

Blaine shakes his head.

"I didn't think to pack any pain killers."

"And that is why you shouldn't be in charge of packing ever," Kurt mumbles, as he rummages his own satchel. "Here, I used to take these if I was too sore after a locker check or whatever," Kurt says matter-of-factly, and hands Blaine a bottle with a few Tylenols left. His hand catches a bottle in the bottom of the satchel, and he curiously brings it out. "Oh, Finn gave me this once," he offers Blaine the IcyHot.

"Let's put an asterix here for a later conversation about how you needed to carry pain killers in your satchel, and for now focus on the hip killing me. And no geriatric jokes!" he warns Kurt.

With some awkwardness, Kurt stands with his back to Blaine, while Blaine rubs the ointment on his hip. It takes some time, with the jacket strapped on top of his breeches. A part of Kurt had wanted to offer Blaine help; the other part is so not ready for his boyfriend to drop his pants in front of him.

"Done," Blaine chimes, and Kurt instantly turns around.

"I wish I could do more for you."

"You could kiss it better?" Blaine suggests cheekily.

Kurt laughs, and settles down next to his boyfriend.

"If that's all it takes?"

"You never fail to make me feel better."

They spend the next minutes kissing slowly, only interrupted by sweet encouragements from Kurt.

"You looked really good out there," he tells him blushingly.

"Your friends are crazy, but it means a lot to have you here," he says and kisses him again.

"Hey, they were your friends first," Kurt objects, punching Blaine lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't injure the athlete," Blaine whines, trapping Kurt's wrists in his hands and kissing him soundly.

They don't stop until someone knocks on the door. They separate, and in enter Mr. Anderson and Blaine's trainer, and Kurt should really get to know his name.

"Stay," Blaine begs silently, so Kurt does just that. They'd let go of each other when they heard the knock, but now Blaine takes Kurt's hand in his. His trainer must know and be fine with it at some level, Kurt muses. The much beloved Dalton policy is of course a safety net, but it's still far from meeting tolerance to be able to express part of themselves in front of others.

Devon sits down on the other side of Blaine, taking his free hand in his, and the trainer gives them a lecture about the strengths and weaknesses of Blaine's next opponent, and some strategic advice.

A woman from the State Championship Secretariat informs Blaine he needs to be ready in five minutes. Before the four males leave the wardrobe, Blaine cups Kurt's cheeks, stands up on his toes, and kisses him sweetly.

"You lift me," he murmurs, and it could have sounded ridiculous and cheesy, but Kurt thinks he actually gets it.

Devon and Kurt walk back to the four other Warblers, giving their best to cheer for Blaine.

It's a rejuvenated and energetic Blaine that duels aggressively and offensively for this bout.

"What did you do to him?" Jeff leans in to whisper.

* * *

When Blaine comes out of the wardrobe, fresh from a shower and in his Dalton uniform with the bronze medallion around his neck, Devon suggests going out for a late celebratory dinner. He extends the invitation to Kurt, but Kurt politely declines, thinking father and son could both earn from some quality time together. He tells Mr. Anderson they drove in his car, though, and the boys need him in order to get back to Dalton.

Later that night, Kurt is ready for bed in his pyjamas, adamant to finish the chapter of his book before taking out the lights.

He's about to put the book back on his bedside table when the bathroom door opens slowly.

"Hey Blaine," he says softly to let the boy know he's awake.

The boy tiptoes in, wearing flannel pyjama pants and a t-shirt.

"I just wanted to say goodnight."

Kurt lifts the covers so Blaine can crawl under to him.

"Did you have a nice dinner with your dad?" he asks as Blaine lies down in his arms.

Blaine hums and nods against Kurt's chest. He seems exhausted. They can talk more tomorrow.

"Stay the night?" Kurt asks, thinking maybe Blaine needs that.

"Okay," he agrees easily, shuffling closer, and Kurt tightens his hold around the boy. "Thank you for everything you did today."

Kurt doesn't think he did much worth mentioning today, but he doesn't object. He simply kisses Blaine's forehead, and soon after they both drift off to sleep.


End file.
